From Amy Yoder McGloughlin.
The ground beneath us shifted in 2017, and to be honest, it really messed me up. I've been in a haze of sadness, anger, and most of all, uncertainty. How do we live when the world is like this? What do we do? How do we respond?
I've had no words. Everything I've said has felt hollow, or wrong, or disingenuous. (Hey, even pastors go through this.)
Some good spiritual direction, good friends, and hard conversations have helped me to see the world through the eyes of a God at work, present and full of love for all of us.
During the last several months, I've noticed that my response to this ever-changing world has been to withdraw. I've spent more time at home. I've comforted myself with food, with distractions, with anything that will fill the emptiness and sadness I've felt this year.
I know that these withdraws have been to protect my tender heart. I see that now. But, what we need in times like this is community. Even though it has felt difficult to reach out, I'm always glad that I do. I need community to remind me that I'm not alone, that we are strong and powerful, and that we have resources in each other.
I sense that I am not the only one that has been in hiding this year. Last Sunday, as we sang together, I sensed in the room that we were relieved to be together, that we needed to sing together, we needed to see each other and share communion together. For the first time in a while, I felt us breathe together, and it felt good. Really good. And I wanted more of it.
As we begin the fall season, and the weather changes along with the trees, I invite you to reach out to your community. Share a meal together. Invite each other into your imperfect homes and lives. And tell the truth about your lives. Because I don't know what things will look like in the future, but I know that I want to walk with you. I know that I need you to survive. I know that we were built for community. So let's be community to each other.