I will start here

Devotion 1-7-20

I can't concentrate today.

I woke up at 3 am from a vivid dream and lay still, letting the warmth of the dream surround me, softly inching back into it.  I was nearly there when just the faintest memory of last night's national drama stuck its toe in.

Suddenly I felt like a door in the middle of my chest was kicked wide open to the fullness of the events of yesterday - a president instigating insurrection, death, mayhem, what has been building, what may be coming, COVID raging, people dying, vaccine shortages, the Democrats winning Georgia, (Merrick Garland for AG), my kids' online school issues, my to-do list, all of it - and I felt it crash over me like a wave of frigid air.

My heart started racing, my body felt completely awake and tense.  My defenses - that had protected me throughout the day, allowing me to take it all in stride with rational thought - were down, and I was helpless to hold back the tide of reality smothering me in the middle of the night.

Gradually, I fought my way back to calm, then to sleep, and eventaully surrendered again to dreams. But I woke this morning pondering the experience.

I am having a hard time with levity these days. I've been told this by those who are close to me (24/7). I am tense and focused. Apparently, nearly all the time. I realized this vacation week as I have tried to relax, that it's true.  I don't ever let down my guard. In these 10 months I have lived alert, braced, protecting my soft core from whatever blow is coming next.

I don't want to live this way. But I am not sure how to stop.  

We are in a strange and difficult and important time as a nation.  This week is revealing the deep and serious consequences of constant lies and deception, and the great importance and also fragility of democracy, and perhaps renewing our collective commitment to upholding it. 

I didn't know anyone personally who was part of the insurrectionist mob yesterday.  But I could have. I have cousins who would have liked to be there, friends from childhood who were undoubtedly cheering on the mob. My own dear grandmother, while not condoning violence, may have been glad to see someone standing up against what she absolutely believes to be a fraudulent, stolen election, because her leaders and trusted media voices have told her that over and over and over again.

It does no good to deepen the cavern between "us" and "them" - to dismiss and give up on one another.  But it's hard to feel so many things.  Holding it all is more complicated than I often have energy for, and defaulting to judgment and labels is an easy out. So is consuming endless recounting and analysis - keeping my mind full of noise and distraction - as though this is me doing something productive and helpful.

I won't take the easy way.  

I think (once again!) I need to grieve.  

I long for something different than what is. 

I will not put my head down and busy myself to avoid feeling this longing.  

Today I am having trouble concentrating. 
So I will start here.
I will notice this and I will be gentle with myself.

I believe I have some work to do in these coming months, letting down my guard, so I can live more available to laughter and joy and connection with my loved ones instead of vigilant, braced and buffered. 

I want to snap my finger and change this, but it doesn't work that way.  I think the only way of beginning is to notice and be gentle with myself.  To recognize what I am feeling and make space for it.  To receive myself the way I would my beloved child, with empathy and listening, good food, rest and exercise, and enforcing some limits and boundaries - keeping sabbath by shutting it all off and putting it all down on purpose regularly, even when I fight against that and think I don't need or want it.  

I know what is true.  I know the belonging that holds us all together; each person a beloved child of God.  I know this is God's world, and in all things, no matter how awful they may be, nevertheless, despite and always, God is working for the good.  And I see the ways fear has dominated us in different and damaging ways: Those who are terrified of what may be because they are believing lies. Those who are terrified of what may be because they are seeing the truth.  

What if, what if, what if... 
EVEN IF.

When the fear rises up, I will notice it and be gentle.
When the anger longs for the simplicity of hatred, I will reach deeper and be curious.  
I won't be afraid.
I will be sad. I will be hopeful. I will be tired. I will be patient. I will be impatient. I will be frustrated. I will be glad.  I will be generous. I will be weak. I will be brave.
I will be all the things instead of nothing. 
I will be present.  I will be alive. 

Today I can't concentrate.

I will start here.

____________________

What are you feeling now?  What are you needing?
Where are you being invited to be curious?  
How might you be gentle with yourself today?  
Are there some WHAT IF's that you may need to name, and let God's EVEN IF respond to?

PRAYER

God, being human is really hard.  
Help me to keep doing it
and not flee my humanity.

God, belonging to each other is really hard.
Help me to keep doing it
and not flee our connectedness.

Today I feel...
Today I think I need...
Here are some of the broken places within and between us...
Here are some of the things that feel hopeless...  
Here is my anger:
Here is my sadness:
Here is my fear:

God, our country is struggling right now
with our humanity and our belonging.

Please come into it all - as you do - with your healing and your life. 

Help me watch for it and help be part of it.

Help our leaders to lead. Help us all to love.
Thank you for the ways hope is born,
and for those who feed and tend and grow hope.
Restore our hope. 

Renew us in our humanity. 

Reconnect us in our belonging.
Amen.