Solitary Solidarity

On the home page for Life In The Trinity Ministry there is a phrase that rings as so true and so important.

A place for solitary work that cannot be done alone.

There is work that is ours to do, and no one else can do it for us.

However.

There is a need for us to have a safe place to do that work in relationship with others. A place where we can say what is true for us and be heard. A place where we can bring our questions and not get ready answers, our fears and not have them shushed away, and our messy emotions and not have someone try to clean them up. We need people who will keep us from getting burned, and, will hold our feet to the fire. People who see for us what we can’t see for ourselves, and, who accept us as we are.

While the work may be ours alone to do, there is safety in numbers. Going it together reminds us that we are not alone in our desire to make sense of things, and to become as fully ourselves as we are meant to be.

I am grateful to those who walk with me on my journey to becoming whole, and for those who invite me to walk with them.

Onward.

Together.

Photo by Matt Hatchett from Pexels

Eyes To See

To be a Christian is to see Christ in everyone and everything.

Richard Rohr 

Leaving the conference where for three days we considered what it really means to be God’s people in the world, and to live out our faith in real and meaningful ways, one of my commitments is to practice seeing Jesus everywhere. To see in all I encounter the image of the One I claim to follow.

Easier said than done, which is why it is a practice. 

Walking back to pick up our bags from the AirBnB with this commitment fresh on my mind, walking directly toward us was my first opportunity to practice. A man that I might typically describe as “sketchy” stepped in our path. Instantly I was on high alert, adrenaline shooting through my veins, and I was ready to bolt. He appeared to be in his late twenties, scruffy beard, clothes that hadn’t seen a washing machine in some time, toting a backpack, and my immediate impression was that he was a sophisticated pan-handler, or worse. My practice of avoiding such folks is obviously well-honed, and the possibility that he might reflect the image of the Carpenter who lived about 2000 years ago didn’t even cross my fearful, judgmental mind.

And then Jesus showed up.  

Out of the mouth of the man blocking our path, the man I typically see as “the other”, the one from whom I would normally avert my eyes, came these words...I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation folks, but I need to tell you all to have a blessed day. 

With a warm smile and a nod, he continued on his way. 

I’m not saying that we should abandon our common sense and pay attention to our surroundings.  

I’m not saying we shouldn’t take protective action should we need it. 

I guess what I’m saying is that maybe we need new glasses with which to see the image of the Holy everywhere we look.

At least I know I do.