Invisible Names

"Best of all, God: you are with us" (Common Prayer).

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed, this week, about all of the tragedy in the world.  It's not that unusual for me to feel this way.  It's not a weakness.  My heart just hurts when people hurt.

The last time I remember feeling precisely this way was last fall when I became acutely aware of the Syrian refugee crisis, followed by the death of a friend's mother, followed by a day in downtown Portland where I encountered scores of homeless people lying on benches in the middle of the sidewalk.  There are just some moments in which you wouldn't be human if you didn't hurt for humanity.

I haven't written here in days, but it's not because I haven't had anything to say.  It's just that there is a fine line between honoring the tragic stories of others and exploiting them for personal gain.  Honestly, I'm not even certain I can do this with any degree of integrity, today.

But as I was reading through the daily office, something struck me.  It wasn't something from the Scripture, exactly.  In fact, it was something that was intentionally left out!  My reading called for a look at Numbers 13:1-3, 21-30.  I'm not much of an expert on Numbers, but before I even turned to the passage, I knew what I would find in the verses in between.  I knew it would be a list of names.

Why do we do this?  Why do we diminish the importance of the people in order to rush ahead to the applications and implications of their narratives for our lives?  Why do we make it all about us?

I am so sorry.

In times of grief, making the pain of strangers into a political debate or flashy self-promo is never the right thing to do.  If you legitimately care about people who are mourning, it's not too hard to find them.  They are all around us.  Go mourn with them, wrap them in an embrace, be the hands and feet of Jesus to them so the words, "God is with you," don't fall so flat.  And if you don't care?  Please, close your mouth.  No one wants to hear about it.     

L.

Crisis

I ran across this article, some time ago, and I have been trying to adopt its principles:

How Not to Say the Wrong Thing

  

It's pretty simple, really.  If your crisis is the biggest one, you get to say whatever you want to whomever you want.  If you're crisis is smaller, you need to know when it is appropriate to speak.  It's not that your crisis doesn't matter.  It's just that someone who is dealing with a larger crisis can't take on your pain.  And that's OK. 

Sometimes I forget that I am not in the center of the crisis circle.  Oh friends, let's be real.  I pray that I am never in the center of the crisis circle!  It is so incredibly easy to lose perspective.

A friend of mine posted this quote, today, and it resonated far deeper than I wanted it to:

"We thought it was a rough patch, but it turned out to be our life." - Bruce Eric Kaplan

I wasn't even sure how to react to this.  The words so closely echoed my own, from last year, when I kept saying, "We're just going through a rough time, right now." But then it didn't let up.  I have very intentionally not uttered this phrase lately, even though it continues to resound.

Here's the truth.  This afternoon, I do not have what I need, and I know this is a horrible thing to say.

However, I have so many friends who are suffering in ways far greater than my own, today.  They are suffering in ways in which I cannot empathize, and the truth is I'm glad, because I don't really want to feel that kind of pain.  I do want to come alongside them and support them and lift them up, but it's like comparing loss of life to paper cuts. 

It's not that my paper cuts don't matter.  It's just that they're not that severe.  I'm surviving.  That has to count for something.

I keep thinking that it would be exceptionally helpful to have someone from a bigger circle to sit down with, someone on which to dump all of my pain, all of my grief, all of my crisis; but I don't actually think that's what I need.  Maybe, instead, I need to lean into who I am and keep absorbing the pain of others that comes from smaller circles where the crisis is so devastating.  Because, that's what I do best...

I Thessalonians 5:11, "Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing" (NIV).

Matthew 6:9-13, "This, then, is how you should pray: 'Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us today our daily bread.  And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.'" (NIV).

Psalm 61:1, "Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer" (NIV).

L.