I am interrupting the 12 Days of my #ShePersisted 2021 Calendar posts for a message of Blessings and Prayers.
My cyber friend, David Kanigan, of the Live & Learn blog, shares a passage from Katrina Kenison’s new book, Magical Journey: An Apprenticeship in Contentment. (It’s a beautiful passage and I’m adding the book to my Christmas WishList – to read the quote – click HERE)
In my response to David’s share, I wrote,
As I type, my beloved is asleep in our bed on the far side of our home. Beaumont the Sheepadoodle lies at my feet under my desk in front of the window watching the river flow and the darkness outside grow slowly lighter. And while my family is not sleeping in rooms under my roof, I know they are safely tucked into beds under their own roofs. Sleeping peacefully. Such a blessing. The knowing. My family is safe where ever they are in the world.
And tears formed in my eyes. And a whiff of sorrow drifted through my heart.
And I pause and say a prayer for the families who crowd the sleeping quarters of the homeless-shelter where I used to work. They do not feel safe, no matter how sound the roof of the shelter. It is not their roof.
And I pause and say a prayer for those who are resting uneasily in hospital beds, some who will recover and go home. And some who never will. Not only because of Covid but other diseases and causes too. They are alone in their suffering.
And I pause and say a prayer for those who rest uneasily at home while their loved ones battle for every breath in a place that feels so very far from home. When a loved one is ill and all alone somewhere else, even a block feels like an eternity away. They too are suffering alone.
And I pause and say a prayer for those who are sleeping under their own roofs where violence is not a stranger. There is no safety to be found, no matter whose roof you sleep under, when abuse is a constant partner.
And I pause and say a prayer for the millions of families and individuals around the world who fear unseen terrors falling from the sky because war is ravaging their land. There is no peace to be found amidst gunfire.
And I pause and say a prayer for the mothers searching for food and shelter amidst rising floodwaters or sliding mountainsides or other natural disasters. There is no shelter like home.
And I pause and let my tears flow freely.
I cannot save the world. I cannot change the wind nor tides, rain nor snow. I cannot stop a bullet flying nor a bomb exploding.
What I can do is bear witness with a loving heart.
I can speak up. And I can, even from a distance, contribute whatever I can to ensure that those for whom home is not a safe place know there are safe places to go. I can do whatever I can to ensure those safe places are there no matter how tumultuous the world around them.
And, I can pause and pray and let my tears flow freely so that my heart is not burdened by sadness and worry and fear, but lightened by the knowledge that I am doing whatever I can to make a better world for everyone.
And if in this moment all I can give are my tears and prayers, let that be enough.
And always, let gratitude be my guiding light. May gratitude always bring me home to a loving heart no matter what is happening in the world around me.
And… last night, as I lay in bed just before sleep descended, I thought about all the things for which I am grateful, and all the things I took for granted before Covid arrived and all the things I will never take for granted again not just because they are so precious, but also because some speak to the freedom and privilege I enjoy and never have to say ‘thank you’ for or never have to ask for, simply because I live where I do and am free to live my everyday life without fear.