DEAR FRIENDS & KIND HEARTS

Dear Friends and kind hearts, 

Yesterday felt like a Good Friday to me. Steeped in the sacred and sacramental as a child, the rituals of the Episcopal Church provided comfort to me as a young adult when life seemed too big to manage alone. During my seminary years, while I attended a protestant seminary, I maintained a connection to the local Episcopal Church and Holy Week was a focal point for me during those three years.

I spent the days leading up to Easter in reflection, participating in rituals such as the washing of each other’s feet, silence, and prayer. On Good Friday darkness descended. I found it uncanny how often nature cooperated at 3 p.m. those Good Fridays with darkened skies and a heaviness to the air. And yet, loss is weighty, suffocating, traumatizing. Even nature feels the depth of it.

And yesterday, the sensitive, conscious, kind hearted among us suffered a deep and significant blow, a wound that cuts deep. Every value we hold dear, every truth we depend upon quite suddenly felt inadequate. We felt powerless. Feel powerless. For a moment, it seemed an unshakeable truth that women’s voices would never be heard or their personhood and value respected. Furthermore, the false belief that people of color were somehow “inadequate”, seemed a reality. Minorities everywhere, many of whom are also women, experienced hope being snatched away. Again. To add insult to injury women were abandoned by their sisters who seemed to have been rendered senseless by some inexplicable force beyond anyone’s understanding or control.

My trauma response reared its ugly head. I identified with every victim I’ve ever known and the sense of powerlessness we all feel at the hands of our abusers. Now, we must face a convicted sex offender and bully in a position of power, who escapes justice once again. How many times must we watch this happen and experience the pain? How long will we be pushed back down?

Evil will not win. Wrong will never be right. Lies will never be truth and the truth will out. I will never let go of this fundamental conviction. I think it is written on our souls until and unless it is abandoned by us.

In the meantime, it is up to each of us to garner our resources, our strength, our knowing and put our noses back to the grindstone. We must embody everything we believe, every day, in every way possible. For this is how, in the symbology of the power of the resurrection, love and compassion will shine light through the cracks of our brokenness.

It is up to us to be the light, for one another, for our children and grandchildren. As the shock and grief begin to lift, we must choose every day to align ourselves with love, generosity, inner strength, a wider perspective, a forgiving spirit and lead the way through the dark for those who do not know or understand the battle we all are fighting.

Let us stand for what is good and right and true. Let us stand with each other. Our challenges are bigger now. Cosmic. But, wise women, we are up to this challenge. We have the training, the perspective, the experience to wield the mighty sword of love for the lost and confused and set a kinder, gentler path for the future.

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