Read Moreibrancy and beauty will come around again.
Did you know, Revelation 5:8 paints a celestial picture of the prayers of the saints as the incense filling golden bowls, brought before the Lamb? Our prayers are not forgotten.
Cruel mysteries surround us
About a plundered earth
Where people are pillaged,
Possessions cherished,
And cravings for power, insatiable.
With certain skin shades despised
While another is idolized.
Where there are wars and walls,
Image bearers banished to cages.
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God doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t grow tired or weary. My burdens or the burdens of those I love are never too much for him.
Instead, Jesus invites us to allow him to carry all that weighs heavily on us.
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2020 is covered by a dark cloud of hopelessness. A cloud that threatens to suffocate us. A cloud that shows no signs of dissipating.
This overwhelming presence of hopelessness continues to creep toward us and pound on the door to our mind, body, and soul wanting us to give up and let it come pouring in.
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When we believe the lie that our individual choices do not impact the collective, we are comforted by our despair. We assuage our anxiety and release ourselves from responsibility or action. Hopelessness is a kind of numbness that desensitizes us to our world and ourselves.
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Time flies. And the formless, empty places of my heart, are a greater part, partially because I cannot find my heart. A heart where spaces feel empty – like before they were transformed.
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“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
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.
It’s not easy to slow down, take a breath, listen to my body, check in with my family in more than just passing. I live in a heightened state of movement, needing to meet deadlines, pressure to stay present with my family, amidst deep desire for connection.
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This month is “Human Trafficking Awareness” month. It’s a month to nationally recognize those caught in this vicious cycle of harm. And, I’ve been pondering what to share during this month that brings awareness to survivors of complex trauma.
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Read MoreI set my Bible next to the puzzle, wondering if there was an arc that would hold me and my family from the impending flood. Days later, after my therapist handed me a yellow sticky note with 4 names of potential next therapists, I just stared. She’d made the call to get me into the hospital, and days before Thanksgiving, sat me down and told me to look for a new therapist. I really needed help, and I would be best served elsewhere.