Don't look away

I have been trying to write this post for over a week now but the words just keep getting stuck. Stuck in the place with all of the emotions.

Sometimes it feels as though the entire world is mourning something. Like every direction you look you can see the outpouring of grief. It is almost tangible. You can see it around the world, in your country, across town and down the street. Broken dreams, devastation, loss, heartbreak, terror, the list seems unending. There are days all you see is the rough and jagged edges of life that splintered and broke in seemingly unimaginable ways. It might be your life, the life of a close friend or family member, or the life of a stranger splayed out across the internet for anyone to see. It is evident in blank looks, angry glares, passionate outbursts, shutting down, silent tears or desperate wails.

Those are the days that weigh down with their heaviness. The days of whispered prayers because you simply can't speak any louder. The days where you fight for the glimmer of hope. You put one foot in front of the other and push forward. Through the confusion and questions. Through the tears. On those days I am tempted to close my eyes. To take every distraction. To simply not see. There is too much that I cannot fix and it is overwhelming. But if we refuse to look at pain whether our own or someone else's, we disconnect when we need desperately to engage. To engage in community, in relationship, in prayer, in love.

I used to think that if my contribution wouldn't be enough to make a noticeable change then it wasn't worth anything, but I have since changed my mind. At the end of the day I would rather have done something, anything, than nothing at all. Sometimes that looks like a phone call, a text message or a hug. A donation to the people with boots on the ground to meet a physical need on the other side of the world. No matter what it always means prayer. To the God who sees all and knows all. Yesterday our pastor was talking about the time period just before Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead and he said something that I have heard before but just hit where I was right now. That Jesus saw their pain. He was moved by their grief. He joined them in their sorrow. I am comforted by the fact that we serve a God who seems to cradle us the gentlest when we are at our most broken. Who doesn't lack compassion but instead sees our pain. And although there are so many times I wish He would simply erase the pain it is a precious thing that He walks so closely beside us through it.

My former small group leaders, Sam and Grace, are walking through a valley right now, long and dark. The loss of a precious child. And they are sharing that valley. Not on the other side when life is patched together, but in real time where honesty is the only option. It is incredibly brave to bare your soul at your breaking point. When everything is a raw and gaping wound. To be real about your pain and to allow others to respond about theirs in the hopes that understanding and healing can spread between words and hearts and lives. You can read Grace's beautifully honest words here and please be praying for them.

As people who have a promise of hope and peace in the midst of great storms we need to see. Don't turn away. Don't close your eyes. Simply do what you can, where you are, with what God has given you. You might not always see a noticeable change in the situation, but it will always change your heart. Sometimes I think that is half the point.

Keep Dreaming!