My heart has been so heavy lately. I can’t seem to filter through all the continual pain and devastation. From across the world to my own backyard… there is just.so.much.
As I sit on my back patio, one of my sacred spaces, I am trying to literally count my blessings. I am asking God this morning all the questions. What can I do? Where can I possibly make a difference? How can I bring any peace to all this suffering?
My home and all my earthly belongings have not been swept away by floods.
All of my family have the blessing of vaccination and have been kept safe so far from COVID.
As I grieve for brothers in Christ who were beheaded by the Taliban for their faith, I have never ever been persecuted for my faith in any shape or form.
And my sisters all over the world I don’t even know where to start but can we just cherish them and honor them and stop trying to destroy them on every level?
My children will be coming home in a few weeks for family birthday celebrations. Lance Corporal Jared Schmitz’s family has a very different homecoming in just a few days.
My heart is ripped out from the images all over the world of refugee parents desperate to provide and protect their children as they push them into the hands of our servicemen and women.
And those heroes… Lord what their hearts, minds, and souls must be enduring.
I have fantastic schools, insurance, a marvelous church, protection and safety from our firefighters, police, and ambulance. I have beautiful parks, trails, and green spaces, clean water and air. But what of the ozone, drought, and the disrespect of Gods creation?
So many friends, family, neighbors, strangers suffering with depression, anxiety, health issues, financial issues, job uncertainty, sadness, and isolation, divorce, strained parent-child relationships, caring for aging parents, trying to provide a better future for their family, political divides, the loss of intellectual dialogue, the constant suspicion of others, and will the hate mongering ever ever end??
As my brain spirals through all the bad and I work through feelings of guilt around the millions of blessings in my life, I look up and see one small Morning Glory. My Morning Glories are transplants from my Grammy’s garden. This sole bloom has creeped her way up out of the remains of my late summer garden. She has remained attached to the vine and she is stretching her sweet neck to get as much sunshine as she can. As a Morning Glory she may only bloom for a day. We don’t typically miss the ones that fade, because a morning glory vine will produce more blooms than you can ever count.
Yet another blessing for me… a sweet reminder to not give up hope, to seek to understand first rather than to be understood, to remain attached to The Vine, to rise above any circumstance, to be ridiculously generous with all my blessings, to play and be grateful for every day, to share truth gently and with kindness, to laugh and give others lots of reasons to laugh, and to love, and love, and love again.
You may also feel like it’s easier to cocoon right now. To pull away from others. To try to save what you have. Because the world is a lot right now. In spite of it all, I want to challenge you to give something away every day this week.
A donation, a hug, a note of encouragement, forgiveness, a joke, an unexpected gift, a meal, your influence, a roll of toilet paper, a cup of coffee, your time… anything to plant more seeds of hope than we can count.