It all became too much for me.
The footage of violence on TV.
The images of grief on the faces of those who lost
loved ones in yet another plane crash.
The news of a major company laying off more than
200+ employees in Central Illinois.
The generalized portrayal by the media of our Muslim
brothers and sisters because of a few extremists who
carried out acts of terror in the false name of
Islam.
The story about a Transgendered teen committing
suicide because of being misunderstood not only by
classmates, not only by the teen’s own parents, but
also the teen’s faith—Christianity.
The recording of buildings shaking as the ground
rumbled and rolled because of an earthquake.
The reports of so many experiencing the coldest week
of this young year—making me mindful of the homeless
and the pets left outside.
All of this I received while watching 10 minutes of
a local news segment last night as I talked to my
mom about my ailing grandmother.
The world is hurting.
It feels dark and cold, not only in the frozen
tundra of Logan County, but also in places beyond
our imagination.
As the first commercial break occurred, I felt like
I do when I walk outside on days like today: my
breath was taken away. It is an overwhelming
feeling.
Sometimes when I was a kid on nights when the world
seemed too big and the problems to arduous, I would
head outside and stand under the cloudless night
sky, gazing upward at the starz and the moon. From
their distance light years away, they somehow
brought me comfort.
With the ground covered by snow, the moonlight
reflected off the frozen particles of precipitation,
illuminating acres of frozen trees, that when the
wind blew, their icy limbs would shake and wave,
creating a perfect rhythm with the tranquility of
the night.
This polar but perfect harmony would leave me
motionless, staring skyward in astonishment, and
without expressing a sound, giving thanks for being
a part of something, broken yes, but also
magnificent. A bit like Christ’s body.
|
Being cold isn’t much fun. In fact, if you stand out there long
enough, it will begin to hurt. But watching our breath dissipate
into the world offers us a reminder,
a reminder that
in this moment in time,
with all that is going on,
as the world longs to be held in God’s arms of grace,
we are reminded that
your breath, that my breath,
that our breath,
matters.
Friends, be not afraid to inhale the wintry weather. For when we do
on cold days like today, during painful times like ours, we can show
the world our care, our hope, and our love for it, by simply
exhaling…
And today, that is more than enough for me.
May your lives be cradled in God’s arms today, your hearts warmed
with Christ’s grace, and your beings burning with the life-giving
presence of the Holy Spirit.
[Adam Quine, Pastor
First Presbyterian Chuch of Lincoln] |
