Streams of Mercy
In these weeks of quarantine, life goes on. The azaleas in my yard have budded, bloomed and faded, the dogwood as well; now rhododendron is in full bloom! Birds are feeding, nesting and singing their way through each day. Deer stop by each evening; moon and stars grace the night sky and evening sounds are peaceful and comforting. I have a safe place to live in a peaceful, loving community, and I have the things I need. My children, though far away, are all doing well; my great-grandson is learning new words each day, and I can hear them on days we Facetime. I’m one of the fortunate ones, yet concern for others fills my heart.
I once read the sometimes you just have to stay silent because no words can explain what’s going on in your mind and heart. For some moments in life, there just are no words that will make life right again, or take it back to the way it was. That’s where I found myself as I sat down to write on Monday morning.
My heart is in touch with the suffering throughout the world these days. It’s a very real, quiet and solitary place, that opens up when my heart makes room for the suffering I see all around, and there are no words to explain. It’s a place far removed from the political, scientific, and religious talk about the Covid-19 Pandemic. It’s a deeper place than “China caused this,” “wash your hands and social distance and flatten the curve,” or “God’s getting our attention – He’s sent plagues before.” It’s a place of weeping for children and parents, for those who’ve lost their jobs, for the homeless and hungry, for the sick and dying and those who care for them, for those who are in vulnerable positions day after day doing essential tasks. A few nights ago, I wept for the people of Africa as I thought about the virus sweeping over that land, and I struggled in prayer for them. Each morning I sing the simple prayer, “Lord, lay some soul upon my heart, and love that soul through me.” I believe God does that from time to time, and it’s hard to explain what goes on in my heart and mind when that happens. I once read that pain is “inevitable” but suffering is “optional.” My heart begs to differ – for suffering is not optional in these uncertain days. “Although the world is full of suffering,” Helen Keller reminds us, “it is full also of the overcoming of it.” Her words are words are word of hope.
In times like these, I turn to the words of others to help find my voice. this morning I read:
“There are no words
sometimes
for the pain that finds us.
Only time,
as it drips along
into a new day,
a new breath,
a new hope.”
The words I heard in a song a few days ago were helpful as well:
“What if Your blessings come through raindrops,
what if Your healing comes through tears,
What if a thousand sleepless nights
are what it takes to know You’re near?”
The words of Lamentations 3:21-24 are God’s Word to us this very day and all our days:
“This I call to mind, and therefore I have hope.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion’, says my soul,
‘therefore I will hope in him.’”
Praying for hope in the midst of suffering and the continuing assurance of God’s love and care; praying for words to say what needs to be said, so that hearts might be moved to do what needs to be done; and giving thanks for those streams of mercy, never ceasing!
Elizabeth