The Language of Lament - Part Two
I am drawn to the image of a God who, in all cases of lamenting, listened. He sat and listened. He waited and listened. He did not rush to heal. He did not rush to repair. He did not rush to reconcile. He listened to the lamenting. And so should we.
I Went Grocery Shopping Today...
The most surprising thing I bought was a jar of peanut butter and a jar of honey because I thought I could have peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I haven’t eaten one of those since I was a kid but with all the chaos swirling around me, I found myself seeking out and reaching for anything that felt familiar. That felt safe. To that felt normal.
A Response To Covid-19
There is a lot of information swirling, much like the steam from my coffee, about Covid-19. There is no denying it’s presence. Some of the information is helpful, some of it is not. And I won’t deny that I have been judgemental towards some people’s response to the information that we are being fed. I have been surprised at the way we so quickly defaulted to a “every man for himself” after the unifying experience of the bushfires. How quickly we can turn on each other.
I Tried To Give A Homeless Man A Sandwich
If I had stopped to ask the people who know him better than I do, would I have avoided potentially making Graeme feel awkward?
Lots of “what if’s”.
And whilst those questions are good, I’ll never know the answer to them, I can’t go back in time and change my decisions.
But I can’t help shake this feeling that God orchestrated this whole thing not for Graeme’s benefit, but for mine.