For a while, Hurricane Florence was larger than the states of North and South Carolina combined. I was amazed at the geostationary satellite images from 22,000 miles above the equator. I was pained at the local images of flooding and destruction that satellites cannot capture. Different perspectives, different responses.

In 1990, Bette Midler recorded the song, “From a Distance.” The lyrics explain “from a distance the world looks blue and green. From a distance there is harmony. From a distance we all have enough and no one is in need and there are no guns, no bombs and no disease. God is watching us from a distance.” So, if we back off far enough we won’t see problems anymore because after all, that’s what God does? That’s one perspective, I suppose.

Maybe time lends perspective. We can learn from the past, and with time we might make more sense of it. But C. S. Lewis opined that God would have people “concerned either with eternity (which means being concerned with Him) or with the present – either meditating on their eternal union with, or separation from, Himself, or else obeying the present voice of conscience, bearing the present cross, receiving the present grace, giving thanks for the present pleasure.” He warns against dwelling on the past, and temptations focused on the future: fear, greed, and lust.

So, distance and time are not reliable ways to reset your perspective. I’m thinking of another song, recorded by Amy Grant at age 18. “She’s got her Father’s eyes; eyes that find the good in things when good is not around; eyes that find the source of help when help just can’t be found; eyes full of compassion seeing every pain, knowing what you’re going through and feeling it the same.”

God doesn’t watch from a distance. He became flesh and dwelled among us. The widow burying her only son and the distressed and dispirited people He saw with compassion. A rich young man captivated by his possessions, He saw with love. His dead friend Lazarus and the city of Jerusalem filled His eyes with wet grief, even though He is the Resurrection and Peace, their only Hope. (John 1:14, Luke 7:13, Matt. 9:36, Mark 10:21, John 11:35, Luke 19:41)

You need a fresh perspective not filtered by your own memories and biases. Psychologist Daniel Kahneman says, “Odd as it may seem I am my remembering self, and the experiencing self who does my living is like a stranger to me.” But you are not limited by that. In Christ, you are a new creation and you have His mind to appraise things the way He does (2 Cor. 5:17, 1 Cor. 2:16). His indwelling Spirit means you have your Father’s eyes, a clear and eternal perspective.

The Loneliness Epidemic is upon us. It is the rotten fruit of rugged individualism, the prison food of digital isolation, the sour stew of broken relationships.  “Psychology Today” reports that in the last 50 years, loneliness has doubled in the U.S.

There is an answer for that Epidemic, and it’s not the CDC in Atlanta. It’s you.  It’s community.

The late John McCain was a little less lonely in that Vietnamese prison camp than he might have been. They bound his arms with ropes as a form of torture.  One guard surreptitiously loosened the ropes during his shift.  Later, on Christmas Day, that guard drew a cross in the dirt with his foot. McCain understood that a fellow believer had taken a risk to relieve his burden.  McCain did the same when he refused early release so another POW could go home.

Creating a loving community involves risk and sacrifice. The early church (Acts 2, 4) understood that.  They sold their possessions to provide for those in need.  Their crisis was persecution, but everybody has one – it’s the human condition.

Puerto Rico seemed a tropical paradise before Hurricane Maria. The devastation was so complete that counting the dead and rescuing the living was nigh impossible.  In “Christianity Today,” Pastor Gadiel Rios explained that God “used these trying times to refocus the spiritual mindset of congregations everywhere, reshaping our understanding of the Christian life as it was intended to be: saved people living in true community, loving God, loving their spiritual brothers and sisters, and loving the lost souls.  A few days after the hurricane, local congregations started to meet.  A sense of shared community kicked in, and everyone started to look for opportunities to serve the most pressing needs.”

They rediscovered the building blocks of community. The Bible says it this way:  “Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2).  Does this not reflect Jesus words, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28)?  In his essay “Luggage of Life,” F. W. Boreham explains, “He only invited them that He might offer His yoke and burden.  Here is something worth thinking about. Christ gives rest to the heart by giving burdens to the shoulders.”  To carry each other’s luggage “is the law of Christ, the law of the cross, a sacrificial law.”

Loneliness and tragedy call for love. If you are like Jesus, you sacrifice your time or treasure for others, and find tangible ways to love those whose burdens are heavy.  “While we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith” (Gal. 6:10).  Don’t wait for community to find you; create it yourself by following the law of Christ: love your neighbors by bearing their burdens.