Flower of hope in the trauma – August 31
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38, PM Psalm 119:25-48; Job 12:1,14:1-22; Acts 12:18-25; John 8:47-59
On Sunday morning during the 9 o’clock service, I looked up at the cross that is built into the back wall of our nave behind the altar. Upon the rough surface of the slate grey beams, just beneath the ninety-degree angles created by their intersection, I saw something that caught my eye. It was a tiny white and green flower, waving in the circulation of air. Somehow this remnant of a fabulous floral display of limelight hydrangeas adorned and danced upon the cross. And it was beautiful.
As the Rev. David Peters, our guest preacher this past weekend, talked of Jesus suspended on the cross between heaven and earth, a beacon of hope for us as we weather times of trauma and devastating loss. I thought of that tiny flower. That reminder that hope springs eternal. That even on the darkest days, God brings beauty and assurance. Jesus was and is and will be a reminder and guide for us through the rough and turbulent terrain around us, because he has been in trauma and pain.
Many years before Jesus came to live among humans, we find Job in a piece of the text appointed for today. Job shares a hard and desperate account of his physical, spiritual, and emotional wounds. He rails against God and the pain of his own human existence. Mortals, he says, are “few of days and full of trouble”. If life is so fleeting like a shadow that barely exists, can God just look away and allow humans to enjoy a day or two? Unlike trees who can sprout new growth after being leveled or damaged, Job asks what happens to humans? Water is in a cycle of moving and drying up, but what of mortals? What is the purpose of all of this, Job inquires. He sees the movements of mountains crumbling and waters flowing to their next resting places. Job says, “so you destroy the hope of mortals. You prevail for ever against them, and they pass away; you change their countenance, and send them away.” (14:19b-20)
Job is living in a hard space with much trauma. He feels utterly alone and without hope. His lament is one that perhaps many of you have pondered…to feel so separated from the light of healing and grace from God. Like trauma, Job’s journey does not resolve quickly. And so, we cling to the hope of Jesus, to God’s faithfulness to us in the darkest of days, and gather together at the Table of our Lord to be nourished. You may be in turmoil today. I pray that you can open your eyes to the tiny flowers of encouragement and hope that quietly reveal themselves to you through the breath of the Holy Spirit. And remember two things; God loves you and you are never alone.
Katherine+
Questions for Self-Reflection:
Where have you found to be a surprising place of encouragement and hope? Have you shared details of this place with others? How often do you return there, physically or in your memory?
Daily Challenge:
Set aside about 20 minutes of quiet. Before beginning, get in a place of comfort, or bring an item that brings hope to you. Sit with God, just as you are. Reflect, pray, breathe. And when 20 minutes are finished, give thanks - even if that thank you is that your body was nourished with oxygen in those moments.