Tag: compassion

Hard Things

Hard things happen.
A loved one dies.
The doctor’s prognosis is not what we had hoped.
Best laid plans crumble at the last moment.
All of us know how any or all of that feels.
We cry.
We scream.
We bargain for a different outcome.
We spiral down into a dark hole.
And then…

It is the “and then” which I found myself thinking about today.
What emerges next?
For some, crawling their way up out of that dark place, what emerges is a deepened sense
Of understanding.
Or compassion.
Or gratitude.
The sorrow or grief or pain doesn’t disappear, but this other gets mixed into who we are and how we live.
For others what emerges is resentment.
And anger.
And bitterness.
Which also gets mixed into who we are and how we live.
I know this is an oversimplification.
Both happen within many of us.
Sometimes one sometimes the other.
Changing day to day or even minute to minute.
We have all seen it.
Most of us have experienced it.

This pushed its way to the surface today because tomorrow (September 11th) is the 20th Anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.
Like many of you, I remember that day.
I remember where I was and how I felt.
I remember the phone calls I made checking on people I knew and cared about.
I remember the disbelief and grief and sick to your stomach feeling of the community and the country.
And, today, I am thinking about the “and then.”
What has emerged?
Are we, as a nation, stronger?
Are we more understanding?
Did the anger and grief of 20 years ago deepen into wisdom?
Or, are we more angry?
More bitter?
More divided?
I wonder…..

After You Have Washed Your Hands

We were already living with a heightened sense of anxiousness.
Hyper partisan politics.
Finger pointing and blaming rather than leadership.
Community fabric unraveling.
My side versus yours.
Your side versus mine.
And then this.
COVID-19.
More than 4000 deaths and more than 100,000 infected.
Schools closing.
Conferences canceled.
Stock market plummeting.
National guard sent to establish a quarantine perimeter in a NYC suburb.
Whole countries quarantined.
Store shelves cleaned out of hand sanitizer and face masks.
We walk into the grocery store or the library or the sanctuary and look to see who else is close by who might sneeze or cough. Or who might not, but who might still be infected with the virus touching the same door knob that we did or the can of soup next to the one we did.
If it was hard before……

I will wash my hands and sneeze into my arm and do what I can to protect myself from others and to protect others from me…just in case.
But larger questions loom.
What are you going to do after you wash your hands?
This is not just about me.
What about the health care workers who were already busy and stressed and now are and tomorrow will be overwhelmed caring for others and worrying about themselves and their households? What about the neighbor who is afraid to go to work because they are not feeling well, but afraid that if they don’t they won’t be able to pay the rent or buy food? What about those who will lose their jobs? What about those who have lost and will lose loved ones? How are we going to respond? While that is a personal question with personal responses, it is also a corporate question. A community question. A national question. A common good question.
How are we going to care for and support those in need whatever the need?
I don’t know how long this pandemic will last, but the ripple effects will last much longer.

While the WHO and the CDC do their work to contain the virus, the rest of us have our work cut out for us, as well. Maybe the first step for you and me is to start the conversation in those places where we live and work.

Strong Enough

Strong enough to care.
Strong enough to respect others.
Strong enough to listen.
Strong enough to change one’s mind.
Strong enough to rely on another.
Strong enough to learn.
Strong enough to say “I’m sorry.”
Strong enough to say “Thank you.”
Strong enough to let another go first.
Strong enough to practice compassion.
Strong enough to be gracious.
Strong enough to be kind.
Strong enough to help others.
Strong enough to let others take the credit.
Strong enough to sacrifice.
Strong enough to bear disappointment.
Strong enough to risk.
Strong enough to be empathetic.
Strong enough to kneel down in order to look a child in the eye.
Strong enough to extend a hand.
Strong enough for tears.
Strong enough to forgive.
Strong enough to share.
Strong enough to lift another up.
Strong enough to be generous.
Strong enough.

In Dangerous Times

One of the songs they sang last night was In Dangerous Times by Alison Burns.
90+ women lending and blending heart and mind and soul to make music.
And to give voice to hope.
What a gift.
In dangerous times hold fast to courage.
In dangerous times hold fast to love.

In dangerous times…
Maybe times like these
When lies are held up as truth.
And name calling and bullying has become normative.
And when it feels like the fabric of our democracy is being torn in pieces.
Me versus you.
Us versus them.
My street
My neighborhood
My town
My state
Versus yours.
I feel unsettled.
Very unsettled.
How about you?

I drove home from the concert thinking about the song I had heard.
And, adding my own verses to the ones which had been sung.
In dangerous times hold fast to compassion.
In dangerous times hold fast to truth.
In dangerous times hold fast to honesty.
In dangerous times hold fast to justice.
In dangerous times hold fast to integrity.
In dangerous times hold fast to courage.
In dangerous times hold fast to love.

I will try.

Reminders

We went to church again last Sunday.
It was nice.
The people around us were welcoming.
The pastor was honest and thoughtful with what she said.
In a variety of different ways we were reminded of the communities around us.
From those down the street to those across the world.
But, what I left with was this.
For one hour
Out of the 168 hours in my week
I was reminded of goodness.
And, compassion.
And, gratitude.
And, grace.
Those words were said out loud.
Both to me and for me.
And, more than that, I said those words out loud.
To me and for me.
And also to and for you.

I was reminded of the larger circles around my life.
And, that we are made for each other.
And, are to care for each other.
And, that I am not (and neither are you) the center of that circle.

I was also reminded I was not perfect.
(Something I already know all too well.)
But in the next breath,
I was reminded that, even though I am far from perfect,
I am valued.
And valuable.
And, have the ability and the opportunity
In the moment before me
To make myself better.
And the world around me better.

All of that in one hour.
Only one hour.
Out of the 168 hours in my week.

In the other 167 hours of my week
Between the news
And the social media posts
And the grocery store checkout lines
I am reminded how petty we can be.
And, how thoughtless and uncaring we can be.
And, how inhuman we, too often, are.
For 167 hours each week we are bombarded by the reminders of our worst selves.
But for that one hour….

We dare not forget the horror and the heartbreak with which so many people live.
But, we should not forget the goodness either.
In ourselves.
And, in each other.
I, for one, need the reminder.

Be Light: A Prayer

O God, you call us together
That we might find strength and hope and direction with and from one another.
Then You throw open the doors
And send us out to be Your people and Your presence
In the world You continue to love so much.
To be…
Light in the midst of darkness.
Hope in the face of despair.
Compassion where the harshness of life overwhelms.
May we continue to strive to do just that
As we do our best to follow in the way and the spirit of Jesus.
Amen.

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Several things I believe: