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| (image is of Kahlil Gibran's mom) |
Yes, I feel quite vulnerable when I post my writing, but especially when I share the darker places. When I let you into a window view of my bad days when I am struggling. It is SO much easier to say "yesterday I had a bad day, but I'm ok today" because others feel more at ease to hear that you're ok right now. It's much harder to sit with someone in those moments, days, or hours when they are not ok...and to not start giving answers. We want to fix it or tell the person--"get over it! you have so much to be thankful for. start counting your blessings..."
We have all sat with someone who is grieving or struggling, and we have felt the tension of wanting to give them answers, to have something encouraging to say...but can we just hold the space? Allow the person to have space to grieve, lament, express those harder emotions which take courage to say out loud? Can we allow people to not be ok for a time, but still believe they are OK in the bigger realm? It takes a lot of inner self work to be able to offer other's space and not freak out when those around us are struggling. To be able to see that--yes, they are struggling, but it's not my job to fix them or give them answers. My job is simply to listen and offer my presence, so they can know they are not alone in this dark, scary, uncomfortable place. And my job is to hold onto hope for them. When she finds it too hard to hope for herself, I can still go on hoping for her. And that is where the compassionate response allows us to "suffer with" (the meaning of compassion) someone else and not feel threatened by their suffering. To allow Jesus to hang on the cross and not take him down... (God didn't fix or alleviate the disciples' confusion and suffering, he allowed them to suffer with and be mystified at what in the world God is doing. Has he forsaken us?). And Jesus allowed Mary and Martha to grieve the death of their brother. He DIED. And slowly but surely Jesus made his way to Mary and Martha. After they had grieved and seen their brother Lazarus die, THEN Jesus shows up. Too late Jesus! But it is not too late. His story is not our story. He is one who can allow the time to pass, and not be threatened by what seems like "THE END OF THE STORY". He sees beyond what we see. His horizons are not our horizons.
Can we sit with others in the midst of a time where they are truly grieving or lamenting a loss--maybe a death of a person, but it could also be a death of a dream, or a loss of something that feels devastating for them. It could be depression, it could be a feeling of death to a future imagined. Choices could have been made that brought them to a place that feels really dark and full of unknowing. There could be clouds looming all around. Is it my job to change their picture? Or is it my job to give them space to share their picture of what they feel right now, meanwhile, holding onto hope that the SUN continues to shine behind those clouds even though right now I just have to hold onto that hope on their behalf? And even go as far as letting them tell me about the clouds. Sitting together acknowledging and feeling the weight of another's clouds...that takes courage, and hope.
The Israelites read the Psalms in unison when they gathered together. Why is that significant? Well, if I'm reading a passage like Psalm 46 in unison with friends on a bad day and I hear "God is my refuge and strength, an ever present help in times of trouble" and I hear my sisters and brothers and friends saying this OUT LOUD (hearing truth spoken out loud by others can be powerful!)...it will minister to me in my times of struggling to believe. There is something about holding grief in community when no one is trying to fix it, but others can continue to hold onto hope on behalf of those who are sitting in darkness. We don't have to be afraid of the darkness when we hold it together in community...fear is what makes us want to quickly sweep it away and put on the happy faces.
Friends, I share my hard "dark" days because I know I am not alone in experiencing these times. And if I only tell you about my good days, then it would be easy for you to believe "Lori has it all together. She doesn't understand what it's like to struggle...so of course she can say she believes in God. Of course she can praise God...everything is working out for her!!" And that is the story we believe when we see people thriving that have not helped us see the struggle along the way. At least I find myself feeling alone on my bad days when facebook reminds me of everyone else's good days.
So...it takes courage to publish my bad days. Maybe some will think "there she goes again, complaining. Man, she needs meds! I wonder if she's seeing a counselor for help?" etc.
But friends, I share because I am coming to believe that I don't have to let shame have the last voice in my life. I don't have to listen to the voice of fear. I have had others sit with me with compassion and love, and help me see that if they can believe there's still hope...I can believe there's still hope. And so while I have days when I may feel I'm NOT feeling so ok right now, I can know that I.am.still.ok.
I still belong to this human race.
I still belong.
I am loved!
And I want to speak this into others' places of darkness
...even when you do not feel ok, you are OK.
You are going to be ok.
Today is not the end of your story.
It doesn't stop here.
You are loved...and I am going to sit with you on this bench called compassion continuing to hope with you and for you...hoping even when you can't hope for yourself.
This is what love looks like.
So we don't have to be afraid of the bad days.
Let's let love in so we can hold the tension of joy and sorrow, good and bad days.
You are ok.
I am ok.
God's got us.
Here's a poem which has spoken to me about how joy becomes fuller in those places where suffering (sorrow) has carved into us with its knife. Our places of suffering become deep reservoirs to hold deep joy. This is good news!!
On Joy and Sorrow
Kahlil Gibran
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
