Feeling Broken For The Broken

My roommate broke his clavicle right before Christmas Break. The clavicle, also known as the collar bone, takes like a month to heal according to the internet.

After the incident he was in a sling for some time and basically did nothing. He tried going to class, tried walking faster outside, and tried getting out of bed in less than an hour. He, only on one occasion, tried showering.

Not showering is something my roommate has become known for. Usually he showers right before work and that's about it, which isn't enough times a week in my book. So, of course we gave him subtle hints to shower but his laziness overcame him to do something else.

So after the incident showering never occurred and the one time I remember him actually showering took like an hour and a half because he had to do everything slower due to the pain of the clavicle.

I, of course, didn't understand how much work and effort had to be put in just to take a shower with only one arm. I had thoughts in my mind like, "It's just a shower, it's not rocket science" or "How hard is it to do this everyday?"

Becoming understanding is hard to do. So I experimented, just to try to feel what he was feeling. In the middle of my shower I put my arm in a "sling" position and attempted to continue with my shower.

I lasted about five seconds.

After that small amount of time I gave up and was much more tolerable of my roommates' condition.

I felt broken for the broken.

I think we should apply this to other aspects of life.

Sometimes when I think about the homeless I think to myself, "Go get a job, it's not impossible." What I failed to do was put myself in their shoes. I don't know their situation, their addictions, their struggles. I, rather, put them in my shoes, if that makes sense.

I mean, I sometimes imagine what I would do if I was homeless. Fighting to find every meal, shelter over my head, making money. I usually think that the first thing I would do would be to find a job, get my paycheck, rent a place to live and go up from there. I don't think that situation is applicable though. There must be something that I don't realize or feel that makes being homeless so hard. In order to feel for the homeless, do we have to become homeless?

Isn't this what Jesus did?

Maybe Jesus came down as an average human because it was something we could relate too.

Something we know.

Imagine if Jesus came down as a King or Superhero, wouldn't that be intimidating? I can't really relate with that.

I have now returned from Christmas Break and my roommate is mostly healed. The magic of a break. He is no longer in a sling so now I expect showers to occur but who knows, maybe their is some other thing I have to relate too.