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I remind myself of a few sanity-saving truths. I say out loud, "I am not Jack Bauer." Unlike him, I am quite human, and there is a serious limit to what I can achieve. Most things that I confront were here before I arrived, unfold beyond my reach, and will remain long after I leave.

I only stand in one corner contributing to the solution of one problem. The global rips that I confront locally are too big for any patch I can offer. I rest assured every night that, as I fulfill my role in the body of Christ, others are fulfilling theirs. Even if they fall through, I will do what I have been called to.

With that acceptance of my limitations, I remind myself of another important truth: Jesus Christ is the perfect Son of God, and I am only a fallen son, loved and called by grace. There is a limit to how much I can love and care, to how far I can go in following God's heart for the broken. I often stare into the cup that has been presented to me with great discomfort, but unlike Christ, I often do not submit to the will of the one asking me to walk on. Christ remains Christ, and I, only myself.

Whenever I look into the eyes of people who suffer and I have the privilege to be welcomed into their most intimate hurts, I know all too well that there is no quick fix for their afflictions. No smart line from a pop-psychology book can ease their continual pain.

In such moments, God often reminds me to shut up and simply be present. I stand as desolate as they, and choose to stay awake in their Gethsemane, hold their hands, pray, and cry with them.

Sharing in their pain, even if it is for a moment, gives me the urge to shout from rooftops in order to bring to light what has been kept in darkness, to voice what has been muted, to disgrace what is shameful, and to remind others of what was left to oblivion. This I do shamelessly, often with tears and anger. Yes, I do cry, even though it is a shame for a Middle Eastern man to do so.

Though I am deeply shaken by my calling, I am also determined. As I put down the photos and close my eyes in the hotel room, I long for God's comfort and human friendship, security, and love.

I also laugh, endlessly. I laugh at the absurdity of the rulers and secret police officers and their self-importance. They are neither the final word nor unshakeable sources of power.

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March 2009, Vol. 53, No. 3