I am sitting here in my office trying to focus, but the landscape of my mind seems rather barren, stark, …deserted in need of words but silent. I have pondered tragedy and loss before, but in this moment I struggle to find words to express that ache deep inside, uncertain why it feels more so than other times.
News of the Boston bombing and thoughts of those who have lost life and limb, those responsible, those who are caring, those who are speculating fill my wandering mind this morning. I reflect upon the news of a colleague’s family and the loss of their son too soon, as if anytime is not too soon when our loved ones die. I ponder the bedside of a saint of our community of faith who slipped away into the night and finished his journey in this life, a good and full life, yet really never ready to let go. I have all of these wrapped in the Light of love and prayer in this moment of reflection and meditation.
In this moment it is quiet, alone with my thoughts, a lump in the throat, eyes on the verge of tears, simply sitting trying to “be” in the moment. I am reminded of my own words from this past Sunday, though why keeps wandering into my thoughts, why is the wrong question. It is the “how” I look to here and now. How do we get through these difficult times? We do it together.
I consider Boston and see the imagery of those who ran toward the pain, ran toward the violence, and ran toward the fear in order to help, to heal, to care, and to save. There in the midst of tragedy is the image of the Spirit, the image of relationship, the image of love that binds us together in our common humanity and love for one another. It is an image borne out of perseverance which states, “evil” will never prevail, ever.
I ponder my colleague’s loss and our church family as we prepare to say farewell to one of our own and am reminded to hug my own spouse, my own family, my own children a little tighter and a little longer because this moment is the only moment I am guaranteed, I do not know what tomorrow holds. It reminds me that every time we come together, every time we part, every time we speak is opportunity to say the words, “I love you,” because our words matter as much as our actions and those are the words that we should all hear more often, and should be the last ones to grace our listening ears in each moment.
And so here in the silence and rambling of my own thoughts of the moment I sit and know somehow, someway there is always hope. There is always that light of the best of who we can be and who we are in the very worst of times. And the Light of that Love is the very Presence of the Divine which binds us together in ways we can only begin to imagine and is the very Presence of Love from which nothing, nothing, will ever separate us.
And so here in this moment, to my family, my friends, for those I love and for those I serve, and for those who love me and even for those I have yet to know…
I Love You.