Of Walls and of Bridges

A young girl sat alone in her sadness.  She had fought with the people she loved and was feeling awful and worthless.

As she sat looking at her feet, saddened by what had happened she heard footsteps as a figure approached her.

“What’s the matter?” the figure asked her.

“It doesn’t matter”  She replied, not moving and not really sure that she wanted to share her hurts with a complete stranger.

“Of course it matters”  The figure told her.  “They don’t want you to know it matters but it does matter.”  He added.

“They who?”  She asked still not looking up.

“They anyone, especially those who are meant to care for you and protect you.”  The figure replied.  “IF they accepted that it mattered they would have to accept that they failed you.”

“It’s not them it’s me.”  Her only offering in response as she thought about what he said.

“Why you?”  He asked.

“I have problems.”  She told him  “Lots of problems.”

“That isn’t your fault.”  The figure offered.  “And anyway if they loved you they would accept your problems.”

“They hate my problems.” she commented mournfully “and wish I would never even mention them.”

“Well they are your problems and are a part of you.”  The figure offered. “I accept you so I accept your problems, and besides to not accept your problems is to say they aren’t important and they are important, you are important, look at how much you have already suffered for them.”

Still not looking up, the girl thought about what the figure was telling her.

“I have suffered a lot that is for sure”  she mumbled.

“Yes I know you have.”  The figure smiled. “And to simply expect you to forget your problems is like saying forget all that suffering it isn’t important.”

Again thew girl didn’t move but thought hard about what the figure was saying.

“If only you knew.” she whispered.

“But I do know.”  the figure offered and as if from nowhere he offered her a box with her name on it and the word “Bullying”

“Wh, what’s that?”  The girl asked.

“It’s yours.”  The figure offered.  “See it has your name on it and it is just one of the things that you have been through.”  He paused for a moment or two simply holding out the box before her for her to take.  “I told you.  I understand and I accept you and I accept your problems.  I don’t want you to hide them away of get rid of them as if you never suffered from them.”

Slowly, nervously, uncertain of her actions, the girl reached out and accepted the box and placed it alongside her.

But as soon as she had placed it down beside her so the figure offered her another one labelled with something else that she had been through. And then another and another.

“See,” the figure told her, “I do know you and I do understand and I do accept you and your problems and I don’t think you should let anyone discount them.  They are part of you.”

Before long the girl was having trouble managing all the boxes.  Each one with her name and each one representing something that she had experienced and suffered through.

“I can’t cope with them all.”  She said in an urgent panic.

“I know.”  The figure told her. “But it is important that people recognize what you have been through and the pain that you have suffered.  They are all part of you and if people accept you they should accept each part of you.”

“But there are too many”  The girl complained.

“It’s ok.”  The figure told her.  “Just stack them up on top of each other and keep them close around you so that you don’t lose any or let anyone refuse to accept them.”

Responding to the figure’s suggestion the girl did as he said and started stacking them up around her and keeping them close.

“I think I am finished.”  The sad girl offered weakly and nervously from behind her stack.

But there was not response.

“Are you there?”  she called to the figure.

Still no response.

Tired from all the effort of being faced with all her problems and pain the sad girl simply sat now even sadder and even weaker than before.  Too tired to even move and not even sure where she would go since the boxes with all her problems on were now built up all around her, she stayed sad, alone and lost for what seemed like ages.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.” A soft gentle voice called to her from the other side of the wall that she had built.  “You can find your place and direction in life.”  He offered.

“Wh, who are you?”  She asked nervously.  “Are you the one who gave me all these boxes?

“No, child.”  The man told her.  “I am Christ and I am not the one who gave these to you.”

“Maybe not.”  She responded more out of frustration and pain than out of belief.  “But you didn’t stop them coming to me did you?”

“I couldn’t.” He explained, His tone full of compassion and love.  “For love to be real it must be given freely and it can only be given freely if it is given by choice and in order for someone to have the choice to love they must also have the choice to hurt.”

The girl listened with great sadness  and yet as she did so the truth of His words found a home in her heart.

“But I didn’t deserve all this”  she whispered mournfully.

“No my child you didn’t and you don’t deserve to be imprisoned by it all either.”  Christ replied.

“But the figure,”  she offered, “he told me they were mine, that I had paid a dear price for them and not to let anyone discount them or take them from me.”

“They are yours.”  Christ replied lovingly.  “They are yours and yes you have paid such a dear price for them.  But they are yours to do with what you want not to be imprisoned and burdened by them.”

“So what do I do with them?”  The girl asked.  “They cost me so much and I don’t want them to go to waste”

“Break free from them.”  Christ offered.  “Break free from them and turn them into something useful and good.”

“But how?”  The girl asked not even sure she could  do such a thing.

“With my help”  Christ offered lovingly.  “I can’t take these from you or use them unless you freely give them,” he added.  “For you to hang on to them is to burden and imprison yourself behind them. But with my help we can use them not to build walls and barriers but to build bridges and to reach out to others who are hurting and who need love and acceptance and healing,”

“And I could do that?”  The girl asked, for the first time is such a long time seeing hope instead of helplessness.

“Yes. you can do that.” Christ offered.  “We can do that together and together we can help a hurting world.”

With tears in her eyes, hope in her heart and healing in her future, slowly one by one she offered up each one of those boxes, those bricks, that had burdened and imprisoned her for so long, building bridges instead of walls.  Sometimes they fell and sometimes she stumbled and sometimes they seemed to refuse to be used the way she knew she had to use them but with love and compassion and perseverance she found freedom and healing and helped many others find freedom and healing also.