Covid has managed to come into our house…OMGoodness what time we have had! All these years we have escaped its grasp. I would not want any to have this. We did not get our vaccination this summer…what a mistake. Stay safe!
“What sustains you, and carries you gently through your days?
What heals and inspires?’
These invitations are grounded in Iain Thomas’ reminder, “Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.”
And today, I have carried Maya Angelou’s words with me, “My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness. Continue to allow humor to lighten the burden of your tender heart.”
And I can still hear Mr. Rogers’ voice, as if he were speaking directly to me through the TV screen, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”
And Mr. Rogers continues, “There’s something deep inside, that helps us become what we can.”
And yes, when I do watch the “scary news”, I can feel the tears begin to flow, and wonder, “Where do we go from here? And what difference can I make?”
Gratefully, I do not wipe my tears away. Nor do I chide myself. I am grateful, knowing that my tears are my teacher, a fountain of strength, and a gift reminding me of my capacity (and yes, my arsenal) for humanity, and empathy, and compassion. A reminder that my heart, while sore (or broken or overwhelmed) is still very much alive and well.
So. What do we do when life feels scary, or upside down? I’m smiling because even with a deflated spirit, I can still find myself feeling guilty about my puny efforts, including my prayers. (As if caring is about keeping score. Lord have mercy.)
This week, my heart needed a replenishment retreat. To let me see, and embrace, that our best response (our best “weapon” if you will) is to let our heart do what it does best: to feel and hold the pain yes, and then to love, and care for, and gift grace (even “recklessly”) to those who can’t fight for themselves.
Yes indeed. Martin Luther King’s reminder, “Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.”
I do confess that when I’m down, I'm susceptible to an internal grilling, “Does what I do even make a difference?” And I have found that this question messes with me only when I assume that something is missing from my life. Or that I need to prove something to someone. In those moments, I’ll remember Clarissa Pinkola Estes' wisdom that "Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely."
“There's a light in this world, a healing spirit more powerful than any darkness we may encounter. We sometimes lose sight of this force when there is suffering, too much pain. Then suddenly the spirit will emerge through the lives of ordinary people who hear a call, and answer in extraordinary ways.” From the film "Mother Teresa"
My friends, let us remember than many hearts are sore. People around us, people we know and love. So, thank you again, Mr. Rogers. “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”
In the Holocaust Museum there is a story about an exchange in a concentration camp on the Day of Liberation (1945). The prisoners still alive in concentration camps, were being set free. A young American Lieutenant, extraordinarily moved by the bleak and foreboding nature of the setting, asked one prisoner to show him the camp. As they approached a building, the lieutenant opened a door for the young woman, and she collapsed in tears. Certain he had offended, he did his best to comfort her. After some time, she told him, “I am weeping because it is the first time in years that someone has done anything kind for me. Thank you.”
With one simple gesture of kindness, we remember that a human world of helping is still alive and well, even when the news too often, feels otherwise.
I don’t tell this story of the Holocaust Museum as some kind of motivational tool. As if there is an obligation to “be kind.” I tell it as an affirmation, and as a reminder—mostly to myself—that within each of us there is a light. And that this light—of hope and dignity, of delight and passion, of justice and grace, of beauty and wonder—still shines, regardless of whatever may conceal it.
And yes, there are times we forget. However, there are also times when a simple act of kindness, or gift of compassion, rekindles the light in our own spirit.
This gift we give to another, becomes a gift we gratefully receive.
In the story, both the giver and the receiver are liberated.
“Sabbath Moments” excerpt
