- Stop for the dying, Always Enough
I was running by myself yesterday, enjoying the wind in my face as I watched the sky melting into evening. I ran fast and light, and turned back to head home. It felt so good to run without my knees hurting like they used to, I thought. Being recovered feels so good.
And as I carried my feet, sprinting back, I saw you plodding past me. I ran past you, my head twisted and my eyes fixated on your back because of what I saw. You were running, or trying to. I watched your back as you jogged away. I was shocked.
I saw a lady so thin her bones were jutting out at her shoulders, elbows and neck and her legs were like toothpicks. As she jogged, I saw how her legs were so thin her knees were bowed outwards and her hips wobbled forwards and backwards as she plodded forward. I recognised that frame and what it meant- I never was that thin, but I had seen enough people at the eating disorder support group and I had remembered what the doctor had told me when he explained that it was neither my genes, nor my exercise regime, but rather my anorexia, that was the main cause of my hip and knee pains.
I ran past her towards home, my heart aching, as I thought of all the emaciated patients at the support group in the hospital and their shriveled, pained bodies, ravaged by emotional and nutritional deprivation. What was I to do? Who did I think I was? I can't go around telling people how to live their lives! If I did approach her, what would I say? That I thought she had an eating disorder, that she was destroying her body, that she ought to get help? I thought of the possibly hideous outburst that could break out as she screamed at my audacity to even suggest such a thing. She might curse me, swear at me, or simply say I was crazy and downright nosy and disrespectful. How dare I say such a thing to her. How dare I.
I remembered my explosive outburst when a close friend had suggested that I had anorexia. Incredulous, I thought. You crazy? And this is the reason why anorexia is considered one of the most difficult illnesses to treat- more than anything, it is characterized by self-denial.
We must have been almost half a kilometre apart when I turned back to watch her back again.
I’ve walked up to complete strangers before, haven’t I? I've asked an Uncle not to smoke because it would hurt him, and he was grateful, right? I did it once, I could do it again, I thought. What was the worst that could happen? She could morph into a three-headed monster, unleash a woman's scorn and fury in all its full glory and hurt my pride, wound my good intentions. I could take that... right?
My legs had slowed down, but I continued to run in the opposite direction away from her. No, God, don't make me do this. I'm a good person in other ways, but please don't make me do something stupid like this. I'm not Mother Teresa. Please no, don't be stupid. It's late and Im running home now, okay? This is so silly.
Right there as I bargained with God in my head, my heart started to ache as I thought of my own hypocrisy. Here I am, going against some odds to publish A Taste of Rainbow to reach out to people suffering from eating disorders, and right there I was running away from someone right under my nose potentially in need of help, someone whose life could possibly be changed, but whom I was willing to let go because I was what- I was afraid?
Oh no, God. Please don’t make me do this.
" We should stop every single time, for each person."
Suddenly, I remembered what Heidi Baker, a missionary to Mozambique, Africa had written in her book. All the time, we are walking past the needy, she wrote, but what we really need to do is Stop.
Was it that difficult? Why are we always in a rush, and why don’t we have time to ask if that old lady begging by the roadside has had her lunch? If we’ve time to study and to eat, why don’t we have time to stop for the needy and dying. Most people here aren’t so poor that they’re about to die any moment, but they’re dying and hurting inside, and why don’t we have time, love, courage to just stop. Stop every single time, for each person. What's the worst that could happen? They could curse, spit, go absolutely ballistic on us, and so what? So what.
Despite the angel in my head winning the argument, every fibre of me wanted to head home. But right at that moment, I turned 180 degrees and started to catch up with the lady. God, I thought, where this audacity is coming from I don’t know, but if this what Love for others means, then fine, teach me, cos my heart ain't that big.
I finally caught up with her because she was so slow, and when I did, I ran ahead of her, pretending I was just, running. Pretend you’re just running and mind your own business, I thought to myself, Go home, Wai Jia, go home. Don't be stupid. Maybe she's just naturally very very thin, and was born with bowed knees and wobbly hips.
My mind went blank, and what possessed me to head back and run by right next to her, and blurt out involuntarily, in between breaths and pants- “Hello! You training for an upcoming Run?” – only God knows.
I tried to smile my Nice smile, the kind of smile I use on strangers, and when I want you to like me.
She looked a little surprised, and then replied, “Yes, in fact I am, for the Great Eastern Women’s Run at the end of the month. I’m doing the 5km Fun Run.”
“Oh really? Me too heh.”
We started a conversation while jogging on the spot.
“ Hm.... your knees all right there?” I asked. I hesitated, and then I said, “ You know, well… Im not sure… but… yea… when I saw you running… I just thought, well…maybe, cos you know, I suffered from it before when I lost a lot of weight… and yea, do your legs, your knees… and maybe your hips… do they hurt when you run?” My whole face had crinkled into a prune and right away, my legs wanted to dash off in an Olympic-timed sprint. WHAT WAS I SAYING? My mind was blank as I haphazardly and clumsily strung the words together.
“Yes, actually, my knees do feel a bit twingey! I took some glucosamine but it helped only a little… how do you know my knees hurt? And hi, I’m J.” She smiled.
“Oh yes, I'm Wai Jia. Nice to meet you, heh. Well, cos actually, a while back... I sort of under-ate and overtrained, and when my knees started to hurt, I found out it was because of anorexia, you know? The weight loss causes bone-wasting and pain at the joints… I’m just wondering, were you born with a low body weight?” Clumsy, I felt I was treading on a mine-field, and any moment, something would explode.
She was surprised at my concern, and as we chatted more, I asked the most important question of all. “ Are you troubled by anything?”
“Yes, actually, a couple of stresses… ” Her smile dissolved and her face fell immediately.
In 3 minutes, I shared my experience with her, and found out she was working, training for a run, losing her appetite. She lived across the road from me, and attended a church nearby. We talked more, and finally she said, “You jogging here next week too? Hope to see you again… Thanks so much for stopping by to talk… I really appreciate it. Thank you… But... why…?” Upon knocked knees, she looked at me and smiled.
“Well… heh… I was jogging home actually, nearing reaching it… and then… well, I felt God asking me to turn back to tell you that He loves you and that no trouble in your life is too big to overcome. Hope you'll find your appetite for life again. ” I said it all in one breath and my face flushed with embarrassment. By then, I had no trouble giving her my Nice smile because my face felt numb.
She beamed. “Thank you for stopping by to talk… Thanks for your advice... Nobody ever told me... I never knew... Really hope to see you jogging here again next Sunday.”
I sprinted back home because it was getting dark, and as I did, I wanted to cry. Going with my own feelings, I never would have turned back to chase her, much less Stop to talk to her, run the risk of offending her and being rained on by ungratefulness. I thought, just a few years back before I knew God, what a self-centred, achievement-driven, anti-social freak I was. I still am in many ways, but I'm learning to be better every day. And I held back the tears as I thought of how I had grown into a person, still far from perfect but much different, all because of knowing Someone who had loved me so much and renewed me inside-out, Someone who taught me to, above all, Love others deeply and bravely, and to Love not with my own strength but with His infinite comfort.
I wanted to cry because I thought, this must be Love. I wanted to run home, but against my own feelings, I made a choice to Stop. This must be Love, I thought. Not love from my own heart, because only I know I’m hardly that magnanimous.
As I walked up home to my apartment, I felt a warm and fuzzy feeling descend upon me. What just happened back there, me resisting my primal instincts to follow the heartbeat of Someone up there… that must be love, and not my love, but God’s love for me- God’s brand of love that disciplines, restrains and runs against the grain of human reason, the kind of love that transcends instinctive feeling. Love that is a choice.
I went against my own feelings to find something far deeper. I wanted to cry because I saw how even in the most unlikely situations, Love never fails you. Most of the time, it will not betray you with scorn. When you are brave to show people your vulnerability, they will be brave to show you theirs. I wanted to cry because I had seen for myself how God's love for us had transformed my blackness into a light, if only for a moment, for someone else. And I wanted to cry because I understood, finally, that this kind of Love, God's love, is... ...
His choice, and mine.
There are always going to be poor and needy people among you. So I command you: Always be generous, open purse and hands, give to your neighbors in trouble, your poor and hurting
neighbors...
-Deuteronomy 15
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