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Hope and Renewal

It is Easter Sunday, and traditionally in many faiths and cultures, a time of renewal. It is a time of new beginnings, of hope. Yet, so many are grieving. I think hope is important, and we must all hope, but hope alone will not bring the changes that this world needs so desperately right now.

There are so many issues, from climate change and the way we treat Mother Earth, to gun violence and the havoc it is wreaking right now, and those who are grieving. I think we are all grieving. Tennessee has loomed large in the news this week. We have new heroes, and perhaps some new hope.

I do not intend to climb up on a soapbox this morning or to be a downer. I am just sharing some thoughts that are weighing heavily on my heart and soul as well as attempting to process so much of what is happening in the world right now, find the right path to some action, and maintain hope. This feels like a difficult balance. What can I do? Small things, I guess. Maintaining my balance and hope are probably two big ones. Then maybe writing letters, signing petitions, praying, recycling, and not continuing to purchase things heavily packaged in plastic. Except for the balance and hope thing, it all seems trite. Yet I do firmly believe that change happens one individual at a time. In the words of Margaret Mead: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

Maybe if we all redouble our own attempts to right some wrongs, do what we can, and not get weighed down by what we can’t control, things will change. We all do this in our own ways and in our own time. I invite you during this season of hope and renewal to take stock, as I am, in how we are being a part of the solution and not the problem.

With love, thanks for reading.

Of course, I also believe that our youth will shape the future, probably better than we did. Here is just one example… and yes, she gives me hope. Transformation.

Hymn For The Hurting by Amanda Gorman

Everything hurts,

Our hearts shadowed and strange,

Minds made muddied and mute.

We carry tragedy, terrifying and true.

And yet none of it is new;

We knew it as home,

As horror,

As heritage.

Even our children

Cannot be children,

Cannot be.

Everything hurts.

It’s a hard time to be alive,

And even harder to stay that way.

We’re burdened to live out these days,

While at the same time, blessed to outlive them.

This alarm is how we know

We must be altered —

That we must differ or die,

That we must triumph or try.

Thus while hate cannot be terminated,

It can be transformed

Into a love that lets us live.

May we not just grieve, but give:

May we not just ache, but act;

May our signed right to bear arms

Never blind our sight from shared harm;

May we choose our children over chaos.

May another innocent never be lost.

Maybe everything hurts,

Our hearts shadowed & strange.

But only when everything hurts

May everything change.


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