Maybe we know too much these days. Too much about pain. Too much about anger and hatred and disaster.
My son Jake brought this project home for Thanksgiving break. Truer words were never spoken, young wise one.
But this is our world today.
I can only unfriend and unfollow so much.
I can only light so many candles and pray so many prayers and shed so many tears.
And then I find myself retreating, battered and numb, to sleep on the couch until the disaster of the day passes me by once again.
Much as I love to write, I am left without words this week, quiet and dark and sad.
I'm grateful right now to others who can speak through their pain. My son Matt posted this Facebook status a few days ago, and I've been holding on these words all week long:
"Sometimes the world seems overwhelming, with its raging global conflicts, famines, and natural disasters. We are often tempted to despair, wondering what kind of impact we can really have as a small person in a big world.
"It reminds me of Jesus, who during his last meal, prayed "Father, I have accomplished everything you've sent me to do." How could he possibly pray that?! The world was ruled by an oppressive empire, there were a bunch of mean Jews getting religion all wrong, and diseases ran rampant.
"Maybe we're not being asked to change it all. Maybe, like Jesus, we are being asked to pick a small number of people close to us and give them most of what we've got. Maybe, instead of pondering the world's problems, we should ponder the problems of those closest to us, and rather than pouring our thoughts into trouble we can do little about, we can deliberate the needs of those close to us, where we have a real chance of inciting change and showing love."
Mr. Rogers puts it this way:
"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.'"
I want to be a person who's helping.
And I think I'm going to have to follow Matt's advice, and just show love to my nearest and dearest.
Glennon posted this song at Momastery yesterday: Rise Up, by Andra Day.
You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousands times again
For you
When the silence isn't quiet
And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet
And move mountains
Bring it to its feet
And move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll…
For the whole world, I'm overwhelmed, exhausted, and afraid.
But for those closest to me, I will rise up.
And do it a thousand times again.
Right after my nap.