On that day we will walk boldly into the world, relieved to breathe fresh air. We will dance, we will sing, we will gather.
On that day we will not fear, we will lay down all our anxiety and we will embrace life in all its fulness.
On that day we will sit round a table with friends and strangers and share food, elbows knocking, accidentally footsie happening under the narrow table.
On that day we will celebrate.
On that day we will open our front doors, we will take a few steps out, we will see the one we love and we will approach them, stopping at 2m, waiting for someone to make the first move.
On that day we will walk up the street, sometimes on the road, relieved to breathe fresh air. We will dance to avoid hedges, we will sing quietly, we will open the doors, see the crowd and hover outside for a while.
On that day there will be something inside that will make us feel a little bit nauseous, we will feel out of place and we will hope that life in all its fulness is out there somewhere.
On that day we will set the table with gaps between the chairs, we will invite friends, but not too many and serve from the kitchen, we will jump at every human touch, an unfamiliar electric shock.
On that day we will want to be more than we are.
On that day we will look out of our front door and not move, watch the people walking in the streets, see the one we love standing at the end of our drive, and we will shout, don't come closer, I'm not ready yet.
On that day we will get in our cars and drive a little bit further than usual, finding a place where there is noone in the road and breathe the fresh air. We will value the space, we will sing if noone else is nearby, we will drive home past the gatherings, glad to get back to that front door.
On that day we will look on with envy, hoping to experience the joy that others are feeling, but will then retire to our sofas, remote controls on hand, and wait for that feeling to come.
On that day we will cook, we will sit alone with our bubble, we will hold on to those things, those people we have always held onto and we will say tomorrow is another day. One day at a time.
On that day we will hang onto our waiting for a little while longer, until it feels safe again.
On that day as we step out of our front doors, God who knows our thoughts from afar will know exactly how we feel as we see the one we love. He will be there in the embraces, he will be there in the distance, the one who holds all together.
On that day as we travel to where we feel most safe, God will be our protection, our shelter, our rest. Where we are dancing with others, he will be dancing too. Where we stand alone on the hillside, he stands too.
On that day the joy of the Lord will be our strength. "Where you are that day", says God, "is where you are and I am with you". The more will come, the joy will dance, the better is still ahead. Take it easy, take it slowly, you're broken now.
On that day in our eating, in our sharing, whether alone or together, God will be calling - "come and be with me, for I am amongst you, taste and see, taste and see..."
On that day whether the waiting has ended, or the waiting is still here, our patient God will wait with us, watch over us, carry us on.
-----------
As we await the day of freedom from restrictions we are all in different places. Some of us can't wait, some of us are so used to how things are now, that the thought of things being different is a challenge, some of us fear what life will look like when we're allowed to do again, some of us are wondering what life will be like when we have lost those we love. Some of us would rather just hide. Wherever we are, however we feel, God knows and he understands. As we are told to love our neighbour as ourselves, we are called to be as understanding as he is. Reach out to those in fear, try not to get frustrated with those who have found liberty too fast, find peace on the path, there is a way ahead, and it is being revealed.
In our Bible study this week which talks about the uncertainty that can often surround mental illness, we prayed this prayer of Thomas Merton. Perhaps this is also a prayer for the slow release from lockdown. A prayer for those making decisions and a prayer for those who are just trying to work out what it means for them as individuals. Keep walking, one day it will make sense.
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment