(55) this strange gift

where are you God? where is the mercy in all of this?

my heart is too tired, too brittle to hold and carry and grieve again and again.

i am ashamed of my relief, embarrassed that, despite the repetitiveness of it all, i still cannot manage to maintain a simple level of gratitude for the ease and blessing and safety of my own life. none of this feels easy, although in retrospect it may someday seem to be. 

i am tied up in knots. i avoided a particular grocery store today because i couldn’t bear facing the homeless standing at each parking lot entrance and exit. i have only been reading the headlines of the news because i don’t have space for detail. instead of joy at a glimpse of his face on a computer screen, i only feel longing and sorrow at the tremendous distance that prevents me from reaching out to take his hand. i want to pray, but i have no words. i want to climb the mountain of Lent with persistence and delight, but i stumble on the question, “it is vegan, but is it Lenten?” i do not know what is in my heart.

i look at my niece’s face and am filled with joy. what boundless wonder! what endless possibility! how is this beauty woven into the same cloth along with such cruelty and unfathomable wrong? if life is a gift, then how can all of this be part of a whole, all part of the same gift?

this latest tragedy among tragedies is not about me. I am untouched, unscathed…once again. and the emotions I feel about this are so mixed, so confused, that I cannot even name them, even as they take on the form of tears. am I crying for those in Boston? or all the billions of others suffering around the world? or simply out of my own griefs and sorrows?

there are times when i have no answers, when most of the basic offerings of elementary Christian faith seem hollow. except that even when all else may be called into question, i do not seem to doubt that somehow my voice is heard, that my hoarse cries matter.


God, God!
Come and rescue us!
We are so screwed up,
so far beyond the reach of reason, of diplomacy,
so much in need of healing.
Please hurry!
Please rescue us.
Be merciful,
please God be merciful.


2 thoughts on “(55) this strange gift

  1. Good, raw, authentic emotions and words! How do you guard your tender heart without becoming hardened? I’m so glad that you are writing your thoughts–that is one way to keep your heart from hardening. Keep stirring!!

  2. Pingback: (61) for god’s sake, write (1 year later) | walking forward.

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