Hear my cry, O God and listen to my prayer.  I call upon you from the ends of the earth with heaviness in my heart; set me upon the rock that is higher than I.  For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.  I will dwell in your house forever; I will take refuge under the cover of your wings. ~ Psalm 61:1-4

As usual over the last few weeks, I have no words. There is nothing really to say.  A thought will come and I think I could write and then it disappears somewhere.  Nothing coherent makes its way to consciousness. The stressors of the last two years have just about done me in, and they continue.  I’m not going to list them here this time. Because….well, because. Many of you will understand that because you have had your own troubles.

There are tears behind my eyes that occasionally make their way to the front of them.  There is such sadness in the world.  Terrible things are happening.  Terrible things have happened in my own family as well and maybe yours, too. The mystic and poet, Rumi, wrote, “I went inside my heart to see how it was. Something there makes me hear the whole world weeping.”

I asked Jesus. I feel his tears fall on my hands and face. His cry rings out, “Jerusalem. Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” ~ Matthew 23:37

Barbara Brown Taylor asks, “So I wonder… Where do we go and what do we draw upon when life is bigger than we are?” We know the answer to that question don’t we? There is “Even so” “And yet.”  There is always an “and yet,” GOD IS GOOD. And the end of the story promises that God WINS.

If I can put life into words it helps me get a handle on it.  Writing does that for me even when it is rather incoherent. It helps me find words that I might not even be able to utter out loud.  I can find my voice in writing and it helps get the sadness and heaviness out. The world at times seems hopeless but friends who listen, to and with unspoken words, are precious.  God does that.

There are so many blessings.  I am grateful for many things and God’s goodness, too, brings tears behind my eyes. I love my family – my husband and children, grandchildren great-grandchildren. I love my new home.  I love my church community.  I have lovely friends. A ministry that brings me joy. Prayers of praise and thanksgiving abound. Being grateful brings hope even when much around us seems to be falling apart. Counting daily blessings, even if or especially if, we have to look for them, brings gratitude and a measure of joy. Life is difficult, but also wonderful.

Frederick Buechner reminds us that “we have it in us to be Christs to each other and maybe in some unimaginable way to God too….We have it in us to work miracles of love and healing as well as to have them worked upon us  We have it in us to bless with him and forgive with him and heal with him and once in a while maybe even to grieve with some measure of his grief at another’s pain and to rejoice with some measure of his rejoicing at another’s joy almost as if it were our own.” Yes!!

A friend sent this:

“Grief is a language without words and so it is untouched by words. Does it help to know that my prayers for you are often wordless, too?  And shaped like tears.”


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