Hoarding

These are dark days. Even though the Summer Solstice greeted us with enormous light over the weekend, I couldn’t help but feel the overshadowing weight of what happened in South Carolina blocking that light. Even the brilliant sun throwing its entrance to summer party was lessened by another reminder of the terror humans can visit upon one another. The groaning of Creation and Creator cut straight through the warm and yellow rays of a brilliantly beautiful day. Our collective hearts are broken and at the same time numbed by the horror of events like this that seem to be happening over and over again with no end in site, no wisdom gained, no change made.
At some point of the last days I realized what I wanted to do was hoard…..that’s right…..hoard. I wanted to begin hoarding all the kindness, gentleness, beauty and hope I could fit into the cracks and crevices of the brokenness. I wanted to pile high the lovely words that have been spoken, will be spoken, in a lifetime. I wanted to spend time looking at the tiniest of creatures and marveling once again at their being, their impossible being. I wanted to spend time listening to a young child’s laughter, the kind that makes it impossible to not also laugh and hear the way children break into song at the drop of a hat. I wanted to join in that song until voices become raw with the joy of the music. I wanted to sit still and be present to the gift of the present moment and to know myself blessed beyond believing.I wanted to hoard all of this….in closets and drawers, in hallways and garages, in the deep recesses of my heart.

Flying out to Seattle on Friday morning, I noticed a young man’s t-shirt as he made his way through the aisle of the plane. It was a brand new shirt, gray with bright blue letters: ‘Team William’ it read in large letters across his slender chest. Below it the signature hash tag mode of communication of these days:#BillGetWell. I wondered who Bill was and who this young was in relationship to him. Father? Uncle? Teacher? Coach? Friend? Was he coming to Seattle to do some kind of benefit for Bill, something to help with the financial implications of his unknown illness? I reflected on this young man’s desire to be a part of William’s ‘team’ and all the care and concern, the commitment to another’s life it communicated. 

In the shadows that prevailed, I held this young man’s movement as a sign of what is right with the world. The truth is that there are more people like this young man making their way through their lives than the one we now know caused so much pain in a small, historic church in Charleston. There are more people choosing to stand side by side with those in pain, illness, despair, hopelessness than there are those who are bent on destruction. I found a special place for all those who are signing on to be on someone’s Team today to the hoarding I am doing.

It would be easy to say that this hoarding I crave is a way of avoiding the issues, of putting my head in the proverbial sand. Perhaps, that is partially true. But I believe this act piling and holding onto things is doing something else. It is allowing the building blocks of hope to have a more solid ground and from that hope change is born. It is ground that is a reminder of our goodness as humanity, of our being made in the Image. A ground that is stronger in love and compassion than it is in hate and indifference. It is a grounding that is a reminder of the invisible lines of connection that hold us all together and, in the end I believe, will not let us go and will propel us to face up to the racism and injustice that runs through our veins and through the tributaries on our nation.

These lines can make us weep with despair and also rejoice with elation. They can take our breath away with beauty and also with terror. They are lines that pull us toward facing the work that must be done before we can become the beloved community we are called to be. Some see this more clearly than others which is one more reason to hold on through it all and to continue to hoard what will become the reminders of our goodness, of our strength and of our power. We need all the best of each other more than ever at times like this.

And so I am hoarding all the good bits……

  

2 thoughts on “Hoarding

  1. yes, and yes. Thank you. Nick’s best friend, Charlie, is reading Naomi Klein’s book about Environmental issues and will pass it on to Nick, as they are excited to read a well researched book about how to support these imperative environmental issues.
    Listening to their conversations gives me great hope and I feel goodness spreading through these young ones.

  2. In the aftermath of such horror and despair, the good people of Charleston show me such hope with their capacity to forgive and to love. We do need the best of each of us! And, I plan to be a part of such hope and goodness!!

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