Since returning from days away, I have been a part of multiple conversations where the spectre of violence in the world has featured. One mentioned a gathering I will be attending this summer and the possible de-volvement of circumstances in the US that might bring about martial law in the city of the event. Another was just an FYI, in case the world is entering into WWIII, here’s my plan…

On the one hand, it is such a strange set of circumstances, these times…More than I can wrap my head or heart around, if I’m being honest. I watch the news, see the images of flashes in the sky, the broken buildings, the people, the self righteous and the wounded…I hear of the new legislation being passed, read of the firings, the hirings, the wielded might… And I think of all that is affected…creation itself…plants, animals, humanity—the elders, the children, families, those alone…The arts, the imagination, the hope…all of that… More than I can hold, for sure…

I had this within me today as I participated in a high school graduation; had a budget planning meeting for the coming year; welcomed a group of sometime-soon-to-be ministers to the Centre; walked through the Public Gardens and beheld the regal femininity of irises in full splendor; wandered down Spring Garden Road and had to walk through a protest that was blocking the sidewalk; stopped in the bookstore; lifted a walker over gravel for a senior passing through a temporary detour; sent any number of text messages and emails; got the cable working again; worked a crossword puzzle or two; was complimented by a stranger; and finished off dinner with a popsicle.

Now, at the end of the day, as I sit here writing, I wonder—And so? If all of this is real and true, what does that mean?

It means it isn’t my heart alone that is holding it all. Because it simply can’t. It is too much.

It is my heart within something so much larger. My heart and my neighbour’s heart, the stranger’s heart, the artists’ and soldiers’, clowns’, engineers’, and farmers’…; all genders, all faiths, no faith, the whole of creation, within the wingspan of God’s heart—to return to the owl from a week or so ago. God who keeps vigil; God who weeps, mourns, lifts up, inspires, enlightens, sustains… God who is compassion, justice, welcome, creative, generous, Home. God, who in the beginning was Word and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us; God who is Love. Is Love. Is Love.

If I walk with this fullness within me, I walk with the fullness of Love that helps me hold it and not be undone. Love that calls me to the next right action. Love that calls me to turn to my neighbour across the street and across the world in recognition of a shared humanity, dignity, and worth.

When this keen awareness washes over me, I find myself praying simply and humbly, Thank You. May I serve this Love in ways that help make it manifest in the midst of it All.