The Morning/Mourning After

Stop. That feeling in the pit of your stomach is real. The reality of the past 24 hours plus the last 90 days are making themselves known now in undeniable ways. The disbelief, the fear, the heartache–they’re all present and accounted for. But I'm asking you to stop right now, for just a moment. Stop. Breathe. Listen.

If you're anything like me, the breathing is hard this morning–shallow, panicked. Nothing makes sense, and everything makes sense. Psalm 30 tells us that joy comes in the morning–we were banking on that. But now, I think, sometimes the only thing that comes in the morning is, well, morning. 

It is a new day. A new day with new challenges. I'm not going to fake hope for you–I care about you all far too much to do that. But I am also not going to wrap despair around me like a blanket. The election is over. I'm going to stop for a minute. I'm going to breathe. I'm going to listen. I'm going to pray. And then, I am going to get to work accepting the things I cannot change, changing the things I can, and continuously do the hard work of discerning the difference between those two.

Now, more than ever, we are called to Be the Church. Not for some fantasy time or in some make-believe circumstances, but in such a time as this. What we do now is the same things we would have done had the results been different–we do justice, we love mercy, and we walk humbly with our God. We look at the world around us and see who needs us to show up for them, and we do that. We love–just like we would have if things had gone the other way–only maybe we learn to love with hearts broken. Not broken down or broken apart, but broken open to the wounds of the world.

This morning is hard for many of us. The next four years may very well be hard for many of us too. Please don't turn away. Please don't shut down. Please don't isolate. We can do hard things…but not alone.

The church sanctuary will be open from 8am to 6pm today if you wish to come and sit. Come and listen. Come and pray. Come and light a candle. I'm here most of the day too, and will come pray or sit with you if that's what you desire. 

Joy or not, morning has broken. What comes with the dawn is up to us.

On the journey with you,
Pr. Melissa

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