As a lawyer, I navigate this word, this concept, on a daily basis.
I pick up the phone and suddenly find myself having deeply personal conversations with individuals about what our legal system is able to do, and what it cannot.
And although I know in my head that life is not fair, that there is no guarantee of justice in a legal system run by fallible human beings, I found myself crying particularly bitter tears on the drive home from a far-flung hearing one afternoon this past year.
Justice. There was none that afternoon. Vulnerable people were left exposed, exploited. And the ones with the power to make a change told me there was nothing they could do. The tears streamed as my car ate up the miles on the long drive home. Anger burned as my frustration turned into feelings of helplessness.
What do we do when we believe that we are helpless to do anything?
I know what we cannot, must not do: turn away, willfully ignoring the wrongs we see around us.
We must never get to the point where we chose to overlook injustice because it hurts too much, because it is too exhausting, because we are just one tiny life in a sea of billions, and our caring couldn’t possibly matter.
Let us not numb ourselves with the distractions of life that have no eternal value to the point that we do nothing else.
Let us not hit “like” or “share” on social media and think that click meant anything beyond an intangible expression in cyberspace that, when combined with nothing more, does nothing more.
Let us not give up before we’ve even begun, convinced that what we do does not matter.
What you do matters.
Helping even one person has ripple effects on lives far beyond what you will ever know this side of Heaven.
Volunteer. Join a nonprofit board. Be a shoulder to lean on. Pray. Quietly meet a need in someone’s life.
“God purposely chose what the world considers nonsense in order to shame the wise, and he chose what the world considers weak in order to shame the powerful” 1 Corinthians 1:27, GNT.