When I posted the other day about being “obsessed with the wounded” I couldn’t manage to put my finger on what didn’t feel right about the post.
I’ve continued to ponder it and resolved that this is the crux of the issue. Being “obsessed” sounds like it’s something in me . . . please believe me when I say it’s not. I told you in that post that I am not necessarily given to empathy. I’m pretty tough. I expect my kids to be tough. Lots of times when I see someone struggling with something, my first tendency is to assume that somehow their poor choices have caused them to be in that position. I know, not exactly gracious of me.
But God has done a work in me. And I think the truth is that I am “drawn” to the wounded rather than obsessed.