The little I have is yours: another breath prayer

Aka When all you have to offer is a tolerance for pain, a coupla college credits, and a top-notch brain

Lest anyone think I’m trying to pass off the title of this post as my own, I hope you recognized it from Hamilton.

I’m trying to keep going with these breath prayers but I gotta tell you — it’s a challenge. There’s a lot of internal arguing with God in my head, and a lot of frustration with the way things are both on the individual and grand scales. It’s not that I think things are malfunctioning; it’s that I’m not sure the system was designed properly. Arrogant, I know, and I’m not trying to say I could do any better. I’m just here to point out that the way things are ain’t great. Yah, just what you needed to hear. You’re welcome?

Jesus, the little I have is yours.

Right now I don’t feel like I have a lot to offer. In the past, when words have failed me, paint has been the conduit through which I processed all those things that troubled or perplexed. Since these days just about everything trouble and perplexes me, it makes sense to offer these visual prayers in lieu of any analysis I could hope to toss out. So paint it is…

Part of what makes these such difficult times is that the circumstances we find ourselves in have revealed longstanding rifts in our society, as well as deep inequities and discriminatory attitudes, whether that’s about race, age, or status. The people at the helm seem incapable of imagination or compassion, and so let money drive their decisions rather than relying their humanity.

There’s so much pain.

|||

If you’ve ever heard of the enneagram, you might know some of the numbers that describe different types of motivations that direct our actions. Apparently I’m a seven, and sevens love to have fun…almost to a fault. Sevens try to steer clear of discomfort or pain, and it take a lot of discipline and reflection to stay in an uncomfortable situation. The instinct is to change the subject, make light of it, or evacuate the area. I’ve gotten better with practice, but there are still times when I have to work hard to stay present in the midst of conflict or discomfort. I’m trying hard to see and hear about the hardships people are facing. I’m very aware that there’s no guarantee these hardships won’t become my own.

People are experiencing profound pain, whether that’s because they’ve had to say goodbye to a loved one from a distance, or their livelihood is in jeopardy, or their child is struggling, or they’re deeply lonely. There’s any number of options for pain right now, and the only thing I can think to hope that people would feel God’s love in the midst of it, feel His/Her peace and buoying presence even in the darkness.

My prayer is that we would see each other’s pain and not look away. That we would bear each other’s burdens and bear witness to each other’s suffering. And then we’d strive to make changes to our systems so there are fewer cracks for people to fall through.