You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘comfort’ tag.

Emphatic disclaimer: This is NOT my poem. It was written by Grace Noll Crowell (1877-1969), and it is beautiful. So beautiful — and so essentially needed right now by so many people — that I had to share it. If you are tired (and I suspect many of us are, burdened by health problems, family troubles, lack of clarity in life, political frustration and despair over the violence that besets us), here is my attempt at comfort. Please know that you are never alone.

Dear heart, God does not say today, “Be strong!”
He knows your strength is spent,
He knows how long
The road has been, how weary you have grown;
For He walked the earthly roads alone,
Each bogging lowland and each long, steep hill,
Can understand, and so He says, “Be still
And know that I am God.”
The hour is late
And you must rest awhile, and you must wait
Until life’s empty reservoirs fill up
As slow rain fills an empty, upturned cup.
Hold up your cup, dear child, for God to fill.
He only asks today that you be still.

Advertisements

I thought my dear friend (and pet-sitter of 19 years) had disappeared. I couldn’t reach her by phone. My messages went unanswered. The number I found in the white pages had been disconnected. I was so miserable, I wept.

Turns out it was all a product of a faulty telephone and some bad timing. I am understandably relieved, but in those moments of panic, I realized just how delicate life can be….

The world is a fragile place,
held together by gravity and spit,
like a spider’s web or soap bubble,
ever poised to fly into fragments
at the least puff of wind.
We can build a shell of sorts
by holding hands — prayer will
brace the dam more firmly
than cement. If someone is standing
alone, we must pull them in
like a wandering balloon.
Be gentle with your hands
and with your words:
You never know who
might be crumbling.

Fresh Bloggie Posts 2015.docxMusic adds so much joy to my life, and I like a wide range of genres, but my true go-to song is something of an unexpected gem.

It’s a version of the great gospel song, “I Love the Lord,” by a South African gospel group called Joyous Celebration.

Now mind you, I’m so pale I’m almost pink. So white that you can see my veins right through my skin! In fact, when I get my monthly infusions for MS, the nurse always says, “My goodness! You’ve got great veins.”

“Yes,” I respond, “because my skin is almost see-through!” And I joke that I could put that skill on my resume: great veins. Plus a winning personality!☺

So while this song is from another culture and is partially in a language I don’t understand, I simply adore the vibe of it and the wonderful young lady who sings it, Ntokozo Mbambo.

Of course, I must admit that when I first heard it, I thought, Oh my! She’s getting carried away, adding a lot of ‘verve” to a song that I’d only ever heard as a sedate, low-key ballad. But by the end of the song, I thought, Wow. I feel what she’s singing deep down in my soul.

In the improvised part at the end of the song, she sings, “I came to let you know that with God you can and you will make it.” And it feels like she’s talking to everybody in pain. “Just hold on a little bit longer, hold on, hold on…”

If I ever win the lottery, it’s only right that I should send that singer the money I would have spent on a therapist, because when she sings, it’s a healing session for me.

You can find yourself wondering: does anybody know what I’m going through? And suddenly you realize it. Everybody’s going through something. We can be there for each other, because at one time, it felt like no one was there for us.

Sometimes comfort comes from God through a conduit. It might be another person, a song, a bluebird or a rainbow. Look around: there’s always somebody who’s been through it, ready to remind you of this deep truth. You’ll make it. And when you do, before you know it, you’ll be singing a song for the next person looking for comfort. You can tell them from the heart: this, too, shall pass.

Listen. It’s not just that I believe you can make it. No, I know you can. And you will.

Have a Mary Little Christmas

Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: