“The sighs too deep for words”. Said so eloquently by the United Church Moderator, Richard Bott.
It has been yet another week of: what? Tuesday saw sun, rain, hail, snow and strong gusts of wind. It seemed the only things missing were fire and brimstone and, of, course, locusts. Of course, I am trying to find some humor in a week which continues with the Covid-19 pandemic and then exploded into the most horrific news out of Nova Scotia, and continues as I write.
So many people are asking “why would a loving God let such things happen?” or, “where is God in all of this?” Legitimate questions in light of all that is happening in our world today, and has happened so often throughout history. I do not have an answer for you, other than to say I do believe that, when we weep, God weeps with us. When we hurt, God hurts with us and, on the other side of the coin, when we rejoice and celebrate, there God is also. We are not alone.
These words may ring hollow to so many right now. But, we do not know the mysterious working of God, nor can we ever grasp the reasons. That is what faith is about. And yes, it is okay for faith to waver at times. And it is also okay to turn away and blame God. God has big shoulders and can handle it all.
So, today, I would like to share with you some words adapted from the writings of Stephanie Zamora. They may be raw, but they are real. And, they may be the only words that can be said or make any sense at all right now.
“We tell each other it will be okay... because we don't know what else to say, and we don't know how to climb into the sh*t with someone and just hold their hand while they cry or scream or rage it out.
I'm not going to tell you it's going to be okay. That everything is going to work out. I'm not going to tell you it will be fine or to buck up. That you've got this and you'll see it soon.
Instead I'm going to tell you that I see your pain (God sees your pain). I understand how much it sucks right now. How your heart is heavy and your spirit is weary. How it's taking everything you have just to get through the day. I see you (God sees you). I feel you (God feels you). I love you (God loves you). I know. I get it, I really do. And I also know exactly how much willpower it takes to not punch someone in the face for telling you it will be okay. Especially when it feels like "being okay" is completely out of reach, no matter how hard you fight to find your footing and dig your way out of the darkness that's nearly consuming you. I see your pain (God sees your pain) and I'm holding you in my heart with all the love I have to give. Because it's okay that everything is not okay right now.
I'm going to tell you that you're stronger than you know. Because you are, my friend. You are powerful beyond measure whether you know it or not. You have purpose and a contribution for this world that only you can make. I know it doesn't feel like it when all you can do is find a way to get yourself out of bed each morning, when the hours begin to weigh on your chest like a ton of bricks and breathing becomes more difficult the longer you're forced to be awake and upright. But you're doing it, love. It may not be at a rate or pace that you want, but you're doing it. Just by getting out of bed and finding a way through the next moment that smacks you in the face. And you're stronger than you give yourself credit for.
I'm going to tell you that trust and faith go a long way. I've never tried to pretend that trust and faith are easy. They're not. Not even a little bit. But they are all we have when nothing is okay and everything is falling apart. They are all we have to make it through to what's next. Trust and faith. It's all we have, and they go a very long way when everything feels impossible.
I'm going to tell you that you're not alone. Even though I know it feels that way, like you're the only person in the history of the world who has experienced this much loss and pain and struggle. Even the most happy and successful people have been through some sh*t, or are probably walking through their own storms right now.
You're not alone. You do not have to do this alone. If ever there was a thing that lifted me out of the depths of grief, it was being reminding that I wasn't alone. That I didn't have to do this alone. You, my friend, are not alone. (God goes with you)
I'm going to tell you that I love you. (that God loves you). Because you're here and you're having a bad day. Because you're human and that makes you beautiful and messy and all things lovable.
I love you. (God Loves you) and you've got this.
For now, if it is the only thing we can do, let our gifts to each other be words of peace, acts of kindness and thoughts of love.
Beryl