So, you are asking what to do? Your eager to find hope? You’re rushing to grief?
Then, do the hard and bloody work of fighting for hope.
Repent. Repent. Repent.
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The sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. 14 There has never been a day like it before or since, a day when the Lord listened to a human being. Surely the Lord was fighting for Israel!”
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I love words
I have none
Tell me,
How do you create without a brush?
I live, do I?
I’m real, am I?
I’m living in a middle space
There are words, drinks, business, and laughs
But also I’m alone
Read MoreLet’s stop, and remember Cinco de Mayo.
Cinco De Mayo is …
The day to stand, united.
So, pull out your pens. Write your lawmakers.
Repent of idol worship.
Stand with the marginalized.
Be fully present in their suffering.
“Han is a sense of unresolved resentment against injustice suffered, a sense of helplessness because of the overwhelming odds against, a feeling of acute pain of sorrow in one’s guts and bowels making the whole body write and wriggle, and an obstinate urge to take “revenge” and to right the wrong all these combined.”
Young-Hak Hyun, Korean Theologian
You in? If you weren’t in “the anxiety club” or very anxious before, there’s a chance you’ve experienced heightened levels of anxiety during the past 4-6 weeks.
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Read MoreThe sun rises,
The sun sets
The moon rises
The moon sets
I rise
I set
Despierto contigo,
Separados
Y juntos
Read MoreI’ve not had a good relationship with grief. My wise friend, Gloria Huh (on #thearisepodcast this week) shared with me that regardless of my awareness, I’ve been building a relationship with grief. Well, she’s right. My relationship with grief is not open or welcoming. It’s stiff, resistant, and at times, hostile.
Public Theologian Ekemini Uwan stated the following, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but all of us need to grieve the life we once knew by shifting into radical acceptance of our present reality. There is no “normal” to return to and if we are honest, the pace of our former lives was abnormal.”
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I am celebrating the resurrection of a brown Jesus who ate with wine-drinkers and tax collectors, elevated women to power, healed the untouchables, called religious leaders to pass through the eye of a needle, and gave a murderer deathbed forgiveness and entrance into Heaven.
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Jesus is late, and in His failure to show up, death has taken what we know He could have healed if only He had been present.
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I used to think I survived by magic and miracles the great shame of my 30’s, testing new waters at age 40. Sure, as the days become sunny in the spring, I was sure it was over. Well, I was wrong. Some say you can outlast your deep pain, but I’m writing you now so you know you need to deal with it if you can. Just do it. I cast my dye with a brown soul. I love him. And, you were born. Thank God, for you.
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I cannot carry the THE VIRUS, but I can help shoulder the burdens of my loved ones with the manna for today. I can sing. I can text. I can offer a kind word. I can ask for help. And in this process, we will find a way through the isolation and mess toward hope and love.
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We are watching for the welfare of the elderly, the vulnerable, our neighbors, our enemies, the homeless, the marginalized, the undocumented, the ones with no voice, to say, we see, we will feed you, we will shout from the rooftops to protect you.
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by a 14 year old poet, musician, artist, with a good heart
Pandemic, pandemic, pandemic
COVID-19 taught me the meaning of,
Pandemic, pandemic, pandemic,
And its only cure is love
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Maybe talking to plants does help them thrive. I wouldn’t put it past God to be that creative. And maybe my physical self affects my spiritual self. Or better yet, maybe my “self” cannot be bifurcated. Maybe everything is spiritual, even the physical. If an immaterial thing, such as connecting with my plant can help it grow, what are the implications for the way I speak to other people? What about the way I speak to myself?
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Read MoreIt feels emotional to think of them freshening up the vacant spaces of our yard, the home full with all four children this Spring. The Coronavirus has played into my mind, when I let it. An essay on a flower may seem superfluous, not the justice writing I normally do, but it’s a window into the complexity of what aspects of creation are markers for hope.
Holy ground, where are you now?
The place Jesus stood before the High Priest…
Do you still remember?
Read MoreWhere are you, dirt, which the soldier stood upon and leaped to strike his face when he refused to answer Caiaphas?
What did you feel?