A Second Infusion of Hope

This past Sunday, after seeing all the new memes pop up over and over on Facebook, the quick fixes, the escape routes – so many have no idea how to honor emotions, how to hold chaos and stillness,  truth in every perspective, and paradox, in themselves or in others – I simply could not bear perpetuating my own status quo.

So I went to a church service outside my ethnic group, outside my faith tradition.

Despite my discomfort at not knowing what was coming next in the service, of being white in a sea of color, of not-so-great singing, and faith language that doesn’t resonate, I experienced something deep and authentic.  My mind struggled to label, but my heart knew immediately:  love.  

The people, the pastor, the gathered body simply radiated love and welcome.  Not so much through spoken language, as in body language. The whole service was simple, the humans  were humble, fearful, faithful, hopeful, prayerful, tearful, joyful – everything thoroughly infused with love. No evidence of cliques, of who’s in and out, who’s powerful and not, just a genuine spirit of because you are here, you are one of us. 

Sheesh.

Holy ground. 

A balm to my weary soul!  

As wonderful as the full moon, the earth under my feet, the birds, the rocks and trees....