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No suffering should ever be minimized

by CAROL SHIRK KNAPP Contributing Writer
| September 23, 2020 1:00 AM

Most people know someone who is “never” wrong — at least they think they aren't. Or ones who won't accept advice. Their way is always better. I've heard my husband say more than once, “You don't listen to me.”

I want to be a person who benefits from the helpful insight of others. Who doesn't think I have to be right every time. One word for this attribute is humility — which covers a broad spectrum of thought and behavior.

Some people, in their personality makeup, naturally lean toward humbleness. Which is not inferiority. Or lacking the ability to speak up for one's self. For others it's a fight to bend.

Humility has its origin in the Latin word “humilis” — meaning low. But who wants to be low? Our culture often emphasizes higher is more desirable. Do all you can to make yourself taller. Live in a bigger house. Drive a newer car. Achieve more. Accrue more.

Humility tests the reasons for pursuit of “tallness.” No one can tell me my motivation more honestly than I can — if I will.

There's a biblical admonition that says — “Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.” This isn't saying all interests are to be supported, but it is saying to consider others.

Here is where I need to “go low” and say I was wrong. Last week I asked the question, “What would you take?” in an emergency fire evacuation. It's a good question, and it can genuinely reveal a lot about what is important to us.

I mentioned some things I would grab if I had that luxury — then closed with the conviction that all I really need I carry within. More-or-less implying memories and a positive mindset are enough.

This does a huge injustice to those who lose everything in a fire. The wildfire that went through our area in Alaska all those years ago missed our place, but destroyed homes of several of our friends. It was devastating to “make the rounds” — turning down each drive to see if the house was still standing. The sorrow when it wasn't, the joy when it was.

How can I forget my friend living on her burned out property in a plastic shelter with a clothespin holding her “door” together. Or several months earlier standing over the smoking ruins of my husband's cousin's beautiful home on an Alaskan lake — incinerated by an electrical fire.

The truth is I'd be shattered to lose my home and possessions. I get frustrated over a missing sock in the laundry. I seldom want to throw anything out — which tells me how attached I am to my stuff and its history.

So no, I wouldn't just glibly go off satisfied that all I need I carry within myself. Though it would be some of those inside things that would carry and get me through such profound loss. It would hurt beyond imagining.

No suffering should be minimized — and I am sorry for doing so. An apology due considers the interests of others. It should never go up in flames.