Where is the Hope Found? Where is the Love?

This world is hard. This world is scary. This world has a heck of a lot of meanness in it. This world has a way of kicking us down time after time as we keep trying to stand up. I don’t know what to do. To be honest, most of the time I feel like staying on the ground, give in to the defeat I keep facing and feeling. 

A few weeks ago, I faced an existential crisis that knocked the breath from my lungs and the wind from my sails. Today, the day after I returned from one of he holiest and most powerful experiences, that same cruelness knocked me right to my knees but this time I have looked that meanness right in the eye and am smirking as I get back up on my two feet.  

Because what I have realized is that I have been collecting the holy moments, the joyful moments, the hopeful moments and letting them settle into my heart. Letting the Love that I know exists in this world fill be up and nourish my heart so I can get back up time and time again.

I choose to honor the grief I feel for the world, the fear, the loss, the anger, the anxiety and I choose to not let it consume me. I choose to reach out to the people I love, to offer support and comfort and to receive support and comfort. 

I have just returned after a week at part of the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s General Assembly. I am an ordained teaching elder and served as a commissioner for our General Assembly as we make decisions about the future of our denomination. I was filled because as a group we gathered together to mourn, to grieve, to lament and prayerfully hope and move into hope. 

Friends, where is the hope found? Where is the love? 

They are in the laughter. The laughter of old friends gathered together, the laughter of strangers becoming friends, the laughter of delight, the laughter of a dad joke being told.

They are in the tears.  The tears of wonder, of magic, of fear, of loss, of lament, of hope, of love.

They are in phrases like: “let the sunlight glisten through the tears till rainbow illuminate” and “God is still a God of impossible things.” 

They are in the way strangers become the best of friends. The ways strangers find the most beautiful ways to connect and love one another—leaving one another feelings seen, heard, loved, and less alone.

They are in the learning that you are not alone.

They are in the hard work, the hard conversations, the hard holiness, with thanksgiving woven in.

They are in pictures that are more chaos than professionally posed.

They are in countless cookies and fried foods consumed (throw in a good mint julep for good measure).

They are found in the joy expressed in fits and giggles.

They are in the q-tips and fingernails on the floor.

They are in the grace given and the grace received.

They are in the breaking of bread and fried food.

They are in completing notebooks, free pens, and swag.

They are in learning and remembering it is not all up to just me or one person but the whole body of Christ.

They are in the knowing the work is not done and it is hard work but God is right beside us through it all. And the knowledge that God weeps with us.

They are in the shaking body, sweaty hands, trembling voice but speaking one’s truth in love.

They are in the God winks waiting to be found in the loveliest of places.

They are in the ways people come to you to be cared for and loved because they trust you.

They are in the countless moments where God simply reminds us “I am here, I love you, you are not alone, you matter.”

They are in the “holy moly this is a big deal” moments.

They are in the heart opening and sharing conversations in hallways, restaurants, buses, conference room tables, and couches, bathrooms, in beds, and telephones.

They are in the communal text messages of checking in with your people.

Today, I am reminding myself that I have been collecting these holy gifts of hope and love for such a time as this. So that when the cruelness knocks me down like the big bully it is—I can get back up again. It isn’t about how long it takes to get back up—but please, get back up, your love in this world matters, you matter, and I am here to hold your hand and hope you will hold mine too. 

Feel your feelings, please do. And I hope and pray we might all be able to move from lament to hope. 

Drops in a bucket matter because they eventually fill the bucket to overflowing.

Peace to us all—Lord in your mercy hear our prayers however they may come. Amen.