I have callouses on my fingers.
They are great!
As a guitarist (yes, I'm using that word to describe myself) these things have made my life much easier. They are there for a reason. To keep me from pain. It took time to grow them and without regularly playing, they start to wear away and I must work to build them up again. Otherwise playing feels more like repeatedly cutting my fingers with tiny razors blades. These callouses have allowed me to work harder and become better at this craft.
Callouses are a funny thing.
Calloused fingers for guitarists = good.
Calloused hearts = bad... or are they?
Today I realized that my heart is becoming calloused. I live in a world that is so full of pain. A world where things don't surprise me as much as they used to. Don't get me wrong. When I heard the news about the Boston Marathon my heart was sad. But it was sad in a different way than usual. It was heavy, but heavy as thought it's reached it's capacity to feel sad about these kind of things anymore so instead it just felt weighed down by another burden of pain.
I first heard the news via facebook from a friend who's sister was running. The stages of grief are real no matter how fast they happen. For a split second I was confused, then I read the news and thought "That can't be. That has to be a mistake." Soon it was confirmed. Then I was angry. "Who would do that!?!" Which was immediately followed by "Are my friends in Boston OK?" I quickly texted them. They responded. I was relieved. But what happened next was surprising to me. I simply went on with my day. Heavy hearted and saddened, but not as I should have been. It had this unfamiliar feeling of 'Another tragedy in another city where people I love live but are OK.'
How have I become this?
How has the world around me become so dark and filled with evil that in the midst of it I'm able to simply go on? And how have I let myself become calloused to these things? It's not that I don't care, I care deeply, but I've lost the ability for my brain to connect to my heart in these instances. Maybe it's God's way of protecting me. Protecting me from the amount of pain I would feel if it were not for these callouses.
I believe that there is a difference between a calloused heart and a hard heart. Is a calloused heart a good thing? Like a guitarists fingers, will it make us better? Will it allow us to push deeper into things that were once too painful to endure. Contrary to my statement about calloused hearts at the beginning of this post, I believe so.
My prayer now: God don't let my calloused heart turn into a hard heart. Use the callouses for good.
