So many of my pieces last year were about hope in the face of adversity that I was actually able to publish them as a book on that subject. But now the adversity is here -- and I've always sworn I would avoid talking politics in this space, but it's hard not to worry about the growing threats to the environment, to women's rights, to the poor and disenfranchised, to immigrants -- and of course the rising fear of nuclear war.
But then, of course, some part of me gets annoyed with myself -- how strong can my faith be if I can't continue to hope and trust in the face of all these threats; to take Gurdjieff's Law of Three to heart, and believe that the difficult things are what help propel us into progress, into new spaces. And of course we can see some of that, as more and more people are beginning to take activism seriously.
But at the same time it seems rather naive -- and even somewhat offensive, to be honest -- to keep encouraging people to "Trust in the Lord, and don't despair; He is a friend so true. No matter what your troubles are, Jesus will see you through." I mean, obviously, this is not a time to sit back on our haunches and just "let it happen." But it's not a time to be hurling insults and widening the divide either. So how DO we continue to stand in a space of trust? How do we know when to act and what to say or do? When the tide of human events is low, how far beyond our comfort zones can we safely venture?
I don't know the answer to any of this; I've been reduced, I think, to a sort of moment by moment responsiveness -- which might explain yesterday's post. I'm not sure what the rules are any more, so I have to listen more closely than ever to the promptings of the heart, and trust that when action is required I will be ready to serve to the best of my ability. All I know is it no longer seems a time for happy platitudes, but rather for some serious and troubled searching for what is right. Thank you for sharing that journey with me...
