We’re not all meant to march
As news of Charlottesville is breaking and spreading across my newsfeed, a friend shares beautiful photos of a family vacation at a national park. Another, comments on the joy of having family all together at the beach. And I think, how can you share beauty and joy when we’re reeling in pain and hurt?! How dare you be happy when we are back here feeling so sad?
What am I saying?
That my sadness should quench your gladness?
No. That’s just wrong.
Then, I heard from a girl – UVA grad, lover of Charlottesville – she is overwhelmed and sad, also terrified, but mostly heartbroken by the news from the day, but the next day she shares…
“Celebrating by spending the day making beautiful music with my friends.”
She’s no pacifist, and no wall flower. No stranger to a march or a protest, and certainly not one to pipe down. But her words struck me. In the day the world handed her – the very next day – she planned to make beautiful music.
Wow! What was I meant to do with my next day, the day the world handed me…this day?
Yes, some are meant to march. But some are meant to make music – music that soothes the soul. Some are made to write poetry – poetry that expresses the heart. And some are meant to tend the flock, feed the sheep, and love the lambs. All the lambs.
Out of anger (even if it feels justified) comes hate, hurt, and hostility.
Out of love (love that is justifying) comes care, compassion and creativity.
That is the nature of love. We can’t let hatred blind us to the beauty we’re meant to see and be.
Perhaps the greatest loss in war, is that the poets, painters and composers, the great artists, march off among the patriots and return, absent their vision, their words and their music. Without these, what hope do we have of rescue from the ravages of war?
We’re not all meant to march.
Some lead by marching.
Some lend by soothing.
Some lift by tending.
Let us do what we’re meant to do, as boldly and fervently as we can, in the name of Love.
God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. ~ 1 Corinthians 12:18-20
Posted on August 17, 2017, in Christian, poetry and tagged Charlottesville, hate, Heather Heyer, love, marching, resist. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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