I awoke this morning with an anxious prayer, “Lord please help me get through this day.” I know it will not be easy.
The long bus ride to work is a gift for me. In part it keeps me close to our neighbors and the reality of life around me. It’s also a quiet time between home and office to reflect and collect my thoughts for the day. Today I’m remembering how God provided in response to Abraham’s obedience (Gen 22: 13-14). I am holding to that promise for myself. God tests and God provides.
The bus driver is unusually kind. He greets each person with respect. "Good morning brother. Hello grandfather. Take care dear friend.” For all those he passes, he signals peace or a gentle hello. We crest the top of the hill and the glorious snowcaps come into view behind the conglomerated power lines. A sign of hope for me. Majestic beauty lies just beyond the mess of today. Mercedes Soza resonates deeply on the radio, “I only ask God, that the injustice wouldn't make me indifferent….” How I fight to not let my heart grow hard and protective.
The day was trying, as expected and many tears were shed. But even in the midst of our mourning, there was comfort in our shared suffering. I am grateful for these people, with whom I’m learning to love more fully and selflessly let go.
After difficult days, it’s my great joy to come home again to earnest hugs and big smiles. A home cooked dinner awaits and we share fellowship together around the table. Communion once again. Tonight my little one’s eyes sparkle as he crinkles his freckled nose and gloats in his game winnings. Just a bit earlier he had stormed away in anger when asked to wash the dishes. Some nights we leave our mess to crust on the table, and simply enjoy each other’s company, cuddling on the couch and recounting the days’ events.
Jean Vanier says community is the place that reveals all the darkness and anger, jealousies and rivalry hidden in our hearts….a place of pain, because it is a place of loss, a place of conflict, and a place of death. But it is also a place of resurrection.
I hold this gift - life together - carefully, gratefully, recognizing the Lord’s presence in it all and giving thanks.