As a deer longs for flowing streams,
   so my soul longs for you, O God. 
My soul thirsts for God,
   for the living God.
When shall I come and behold
   the face of God? 

Psalm 42:1-2 (NRSV)

My work is loving the world.

Mary Oliver, from the poem “Messenger”

Coming Up for Air

We are in a strange and terrible moment, but it’s all filtered through this lens of people feeling relief here in the United States over our loosening Covid restrictions. A school shooting in Russia, thousands dying in India and in Brazil, and continued political and personal upheaval have plagued the world…and this is all since Sunday! 

As time goes by, I try to shield myself from the things I can do nothing about, to some extant. I also need to  witness and embrace those tragedies we should speak up about. It’s hard to find the balance. We cannot hide our heads in the sand while the horrors of mans inhumanity to mankind burns around us. But we also need to keep our calm, core center in order to be able to respond when we’re needed. 

Celebrate? Mourn? Both?

For me, it’s all tinged right now, with a feeling of guilt! I feel incredibly blessed and lucky to be maxcinated (vaccinated with two shots and two weeks have passed since my second shot). But I’m also aware that many others are not. India should not have fallen prey to Covid the way it has. The world should turn it’s attention to their plight, and to the plight of other developing nations like Brazil. There are many places in the world where restrictions are not lifting, because they cannot. 

What do you do, when feelings of helplessness in the face of overwhelming circumstances overcome you? I look for solace. Sometimes I find it in scripture, like in Psalm 42, above. The image of the deer coming to the stream to quench its thirst is a resonant one for me, and allows me to thinking about how empowering my faith can be. 

Slaking Our Thirst

The quote from Mary Oliver also relates to thirst: it’s the title of the book of poems where “Messenger” appeared. Thirst was published in 2006, thirteen years before she passed at 83. It’s a collection alive with reflection on both the holy and the mundane. It’s a solace to me, and has been ever since my Aunt Cynthia asked me to read the title poem at her memorial. I did, and I never let the poem or the poet go. 

Over the next two weeks, my podcast co-host and friend, Jonathan Malone and I, will be reading through and sharing poetry from the book Thirst on our podcast devotional, Kitchen Table Spirituality. If you’re feeling buffeted and bruised by the news of the world, I hope we can provide some space for you to top off your spiritual tank and to feel closer to God. Mary Oliver was a person of deep and abiding faith. At times she was quite unconventional, but she never stopped witnessing personally about her experience of the divine in the world. 

Join us here on the podcast starting Thursday, May 20th!

I’m grateful for Mary Oliver, and I hope you’ll enjoy our two-part series, starting a week from this Thursday right here on the blog. And remember: if it all gets to be too much, take some time to look away, to reset, and to remember that God is with you for the whole journey.