“But let us not put our sights too high. We do not have to be saviors of the world! We are simply human beings, enfolded in weakness and in hope, called together to change our world one heart at a time. ” ~ Jean Vanier
*****
I had other posts to go up this week, both here and at Patheos. I wrote them over the weekend, so proud of myself to actually be a few days ahead.
Then I woke up yesterday, got my coffee, turned on my computer, and saw the news about the Las Vegas shooting.
With the realities of Puerto Rico blaring, a president that tweets vile things day after day, and the pain of such deep and brutal racial division that we’re just beginning to touch the surface on, I felt a heaviness in my heart that’s become more and more familiar.
Then partway into the day, we got the news about Tom Petty. “Won’t Back Down” is The Refuge theme song that we sing when we celebrate sobriety birthdays and I felt a pervasive feeling of “Really, today?”
My pericardium is a bit thin at the moment, and like so many others I’m overwhelmed at the pain and feelings of helplessness every direction.
But I suppose the answer is “Yes, really, today.”
I have no words.
Everything I think of saying evaporates the moment I try to form it into a coherent thought.
Yet, I do know that certain actions will help.
That faith is a verb.
That the way out is alongside one another.
That we need each other more than we’ve ever needed each other.
That our best hope is together.
That certain things will help.
Hug someone.
Call someone.
Help someone.
Pray for someone.
Write someone.
Serve somewhere.
Make plans with someone.
Open your table to someone.
Pay for someone.
Restore dignity to someone.
Remind someone that they matter.
Forgive someone.
Break down a barrier.
Pave a new road toward healing.
Listen to someone.
Create beauty and share it with someone.
Stand up for someone.
Weep with someone.
Celebrate with someone.
Hold space for someone.
Our best hope is together (and we don’t need the “right” words, beliefs, Facebook posts, or anything else for that).
Love and grief from Colorado today, Kathy