For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.  (Romans 12:4-5)

Have you ever watched a video of a lion taking down a gazelle and thought to yourself “Pspspsp, here kitty, kitty!”? Me neither. Like yours, my brain’s sense of self-preservation kicks in and reminds me that the lion isn’t safe for me. Very few of us are likely to encounter dangerous wild animals, but most of us have been hurt somehow by someone who was supposed to care about us. And when we’ve been hurt badly, it is normal to think twice before trusting others with our hearts, bodies, or anything else we care about.

But our brains can try so hard to keep us safe that they isolate us from others. In the eyes of the Divine, we belong to one another, connected by a web of reciprocity, compassion, and grace.  In a world where God rarely makes personal appearances or speaks clearly, we find glimmers of the Divine in the goodness of others, holy purpose in loving and caring for others, and a measure of peace and safety in knowing others have our backs.

Even the most introverted among us are not islands unto ourselves. When we cut ourselves off from the opportunity to give and receive care and compassion—even though our reasons are understandable—it affects our spiritual wellbeing.

For survivors, learning to trust connections is often difficult. Don’t pressure anyone to participate, and don’t be offended when people decline. But do, gently, renew invitations from time to time. It can mean the world to folks to know that they are seen and valued, even when they wish they could be invisible.