Compassion
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I have lived around people who struggle with alcohol abuse all of my life. I recognized that this man was hung over. He smelled like alcohol. It wasn’t necessarily his breath; in fact I doubt that he had been drinking in the last few hours. He smelled like stale alcohol. The alcohol inhabited his body now. He was trapped by it. I could tell he was one of those people who were barely functioning alcoholics. He went to work most of the time. He was good at his work and didn’t cause a lot of trouble. The problem would come when he crossed the line and didn’t come to work for a while. Depending on how much grace his employers had he might have skipped around from job to job a lot.
I was overwhelmed with compassion for this man. I thought about what it must be like to live that way – going to work hung over every day, keeping your head down hoping no one will notice you, hoping you can keep it together long enough to get through the day, go home, and have some beer. I thought about his family and how much he had probably hurt them despite his best intentions. Had they given up on him?
I prayed for a miracle for this man. I prayed that he would find help and hope. I also prayed for his family, for God to comfort them. I was chocked up with tears.
The man got off the bus before me and I didn’t notice. He would have had to pass me as he walked over to the door. I just glanced behind me and he was gone. I wonder how many people slip by me. I was glad that I had at least had the compassion to pray for this man.
Because of some of the experiences I have had active alcoholics usually make me angry. I found myself surprised at the level of compassion I had for this man. God helped me see him through his eyes. We all deserve love. We all deserve someone to pray for us
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S.G
Oh, by the way, S.G. is also my initials, but the above post isn't mine!