Honor the Love and Light
I am… thinking a lot as of late. I keep feeling a push to do something, anything more.
There have been, now, two artist friends that I greatly admired and respected who are… not of this earth anymore. Their light is gone, and yet not. Because the amazing thing about being an artist is that you can create light and beauty- even in the dark things- that stick around even after we’re gone.
That’s not to say that everyone doesn’t leave a light when they leave, because I think everyone does. I believe that every, single, person in this world is special. Even if I disagree with you, or maybe don’t even like you, there is someone who loves you and thinks you’re special.
I’m thinking about all of these things and reflecting on them along with the sermons and readings we have had at church lately. The past few Sundays have dealt with the premise that God, through Jesus, gave us all an everlasting feast with which to live. Jesus made bread for thousands, as an example that each day we are given bread by God with which to live. His loving grace and salvation.
For some, it’s difficult to see this. For some, even if they accept this notion… the darkness can grow so strong that it is easier to escape the pain of this world and go elsewhere. For some, their physical beings are taken from us through disease. And still others are taken before they can breathe life into this world. The pain is still there for the rest of us, even as their light is left here on Earth. Even as though their physical beings are not here, we are left with the memories, the photographs, the art of having been here… that they created.
In these past few Sundays, we sang two of my favorite hymns. Today, is was “Alleluia, Alleluia, Give Thanks to the Risen Lord”, and when we got to the part that says “We have been crucified with Christ, Now we shall live forever”… I couldn’t sing it. It’s a beautiful hymn, and one of my favorites, but it was too sad then. A few Sundays ago it was “I am the bread of Life”- a song that was given a new, sadder, meaning to me when it was played on the last day of my then minister’s service at my church. That song, of course, comes from John 6:35 ” I am the bread of life, whoever shall come to me will not hunger”.
I understand why some ministers and people take comfort in the idea of an eternal life, in the preaching of it. But I fail to see how that can comfort all. Grief is a very human emotion. it’s something that can bring us together. Or break us further apart.
With all of the hurt that is going on around us, I feel I am left without adequate words or teachings to help and heal. I wish so much that there was more I could do. It’s during all of this, that I have noticed it’s that time of year when our church advertises the Education for Ministry program in the Episcopalian Church.
I’m considering taking the classes, and perhaps more. With all of the hurt in this world there has to be more that I can do, not to grandstand, but just to offer a prayer or healing to the person next to me. Going to yoga this summer also helped in realizing this, hearing the ending words “the light in me honors the light in you” repeatedly helped me to see it. I want to do a better job of honoring the love and light in each of us.
The smallest ways can make the biggest difference. Whether it’s for the homeless, for the person next door, for the person frustrated with the new parking meters, for the person in line behind us, even the smallest ways of sharing the light can help reignite a fire in ways we don’t expect.
Finding joy in the smallest of things, or in creating the biggest moments. Giving that joy to others, and sharing the food of God that is given to each of us.
Won’t you join me?
Love to all y’all,
Molly
