Our current reality feels completely unreal. I find myself absorbing the constant feed of news in a haze of disbelief. It's like driving by a car accident. You can't help but look- you don't know if you should stop and help and in all honesty, it feels easier to just drive by and offer up a silent prayer. But in this accident, it is our loved ones, our neighbors, our family, our friends who are hurt. The collateral damage of a driver bent on speed, destruction, and road rage. And the wreckage feels so mangled that we can't imagine where to begin to help.
Grief, worry, fear, vague nausea, rage, desolation....I was feeling it all this last Sunday. My body felt it too. Shoulders raised, tension in my neck, a clenched jaw, queasy. I had spent the morning toggling between on line worship and news headlines. The discord between one and the other was piercing my soul. How has it come to this? What do we do? Where is God? Are my prayers even heard?
When I notice that my body is carrying my stress, I know that I need to get outside. It is one of the reasons that I love living on a hobby farm. There is always something outside that needs doing. Sunday was a beautiful day; a rare warm, sunny January afternoon, arriving after a bitterly cold week. We recently added a Highland cow to our farm. She is majestic, mysterious, and lovely. I am in love. She also poops- a lot. There was plenty of poop to scoop and that act of digging in and getting the poop in piles was weirdly cathartic.
After scooping poop into piles for a good while, I stopped to notice Vivi (the cow). She was just standing in the pasture, soaking in the sun. I couldn't help but hear- be still and know that I am God. I felt something inside of me release. I went and got her brush from the barn and joined her in the sun. I started to methodically brush out her long hair. She made a little purring sound (do cows purr?) and leaned into the brush. Out of nowhere, the words of the hymn All Creatures of our God and King bubbled up inside me and without even being aware of it, I began to sing. I honestly cannot remember the last time a hymn just flowed from my heart, right out of my mouth. Vivi seemed to like it. Next up was Beautiful Savior and Morning Has Broken. There I was, standing in the middle of the pasture, all by myself, brushing my cow, and singing hymns. The world just may have caused me to go mad- or maybe- God took a moment of sunshine and a giant, sweet cow to remind me that in the chaos, God still reigns.
Did this moment of discovery change my outlook on the world or the stress my body is carrying? Nope. But it did serve to remind me that God will breakthrough the madness. It reminded me that in the midst of the chaos, I have to find the moments of peace and grounding. It reminded me that I am not alone.
While I wish you all could have a cow, sunshine and a hymn to sing- I know that isn't practical and may not be your jam. But I do beg you to find your pasture. Find your people (or your creatures). Who can you laugh with? Who can you cry with? Who can you sing to? Who will be still with you? We have only experienced the first week of what we know will be a long 4 years. You, as one person, can't fix it all. This ugliness has been festering for decades. Take care of yourself so as you approach the mangled wreck of life as we have known it, you know where your skills can shine, where you can help, where you can make a difference. Love your people. Be their pasture when you can.
I will be right here with you. My hope is that this blog can be a bit of a pasture place. And if I go silent for a bit, you can find me in my pasture, hanging with Vivi and the goats (sounds like a great band), singing a mix of hymns and John Denver -she really likes Rocky Mountain High. God has not left us. We are in this together. Jesus taught us time and again how to upend the status quo. The how lives in the songs of our hearts and the story of our faith. May it be so.