Somewhere between Kobe, Covid and Killings, we lost our ability to play. Sitting outside of a makeshift emergency room, I asked God,” Is this what we have been reduced to?” Question after question, and no answer came.
An elderly man sits underneath a tent confused as to why he doesn’t need a prescription or a follow up appointment. ¿Seguro que no necesito cita?” Are you SURE that I don’t need to see a doctor?
After being told no more than once, he lifted his frail body from the outdoor waiting room-alone. “Who left him here alone?” Bartimeus. Jesus. Gethsemane. Sometimes there is a blessing in being left alone. As I walked around outside worried about what was taking place inside, I did something different: I exhaled, walked from under the make-shift terrace and stood flat-footed in the pouring down rain.
As if Heaven’s tears held a cleansing formula to mysteriously wash off hundreds of years of collective trauma and the stains on my soul.
“I’ll try this earthing and grounding thing that everyone has been raving about.” As I walked, a sense of adventure to discover what I had missed during quarantine offered me “open blooms” reaching out towards me. A truck bed of hibiscus waved in the wind at me, prophetically!” Oh, happy they must be. Plants have no fear of this dis-ease. They are neutral. Nature is neutral and healing when left alone.
“Should I be? Is this a sign from God?” From seedling to blooming to gracing guests at homes, their purpose, sure but still unknown. “Nothing to stunt their growth,” I quipped under my breath. I’m sure God wasn’t pleased with my lack of patience and seeming defeat. And I remembered Job. All of his well meaning friends had his “prognosis,” but only God had his prescription!”
Dear World: Maybe we messed up and are reaping what we have sown. Maybe we failed the “all together in the sandbox children, and be sure you play fair!” Perhaps we are also reaping what we did not sow when fully in our capacity to “lend a hand” and an “I understand.”
I walked back to finish translating for the man left alone. I wonder what stories his wrinkled hands had written for the years he’s been in the field making sure that we have enough quality food while he and his family only get the scraps…. “Oh but Master, even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from your table.” Let them fall again like fresh manna on wearied souls on their 40 year trek back home: I hear the back side of the desert is pruning and preparation ground. May we not come out the same.
I hope that you’ve found an environment which gives you the courage and the freedom to explore your questions, and the patience to wait for the answers without being pulled on to perform like everyone else, simply because it looks like the right thing to do. I hope you’ve found a frequency whereby you can be free. Free from distractions, free from divisions, free to breathe, and free to be.
This place of Holy Silence is not new to me. I don’t like titles but today, I was Chief Coordinator of Chaos. One of the things that I’m going to do differently will be to become so indifferent that I can no longer feel, respond or lead. I have no answers. I have no solutions. I’m tired. Someone else take this activist life. Please? Thank you. Just remember that if you lose the breath, you lose the pose. At least that’s what yoga and the monk taught me.
It’s time to stop playing and it’s time to start posing. But who am I to render any suggestions? That’s my question. I’ll pass on the chicken soup. Does anyone have anything else for the soul?
I wonder if this wonder will lead me back to the places I’ve traveled, the things I’ve seen, the beauty I’ve encountered in what we deem mundane. A simpler existence, with a smile on my face? I’m not sure, but I just took the first step…. Jesus Left. Do me a favor, let the KING rule the city. Anything else is uncivilized. Call on Him. Apply pressure to His name. When Jesus is all we have left, we discover that He is all we need. The tricky part is our willingness to embrace that wisdom, power, grace, truth and unconditional love is resident within you and within me. “When my heart is overwhelmed within me, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”
Wonder is fulfilled in the willingness to surrender. Surrendering takes childlike faith. I do it often. What looked like apathy was just behind the scenes and on the front line activism taking an escape.
It’s raining again…. time to make mud pies for my Pinterest Account. Have fun adulting…. Natasha, Out!
Natasha Stevens is passionate about humanitarian efforts ranging from empowering girls and women through education, writing, counseling, and speaking engagements, to hands on mission work in various places, including the eradication of forced child labor and early marriage through human trafficking. She loves a hearty laugh in summer gardens as much as a healthy bowl of oats in winter. She enjoys interacting with people from all walks of life, giving back where needed, and ministering the love and grace of Jesus without a title.
Natasha, I felt your frustration and angst at the current swirling madness in our world. The sentence that struck me most was when you saw the truck load of blooming hibiscus and thought to yourself, “Plants have no fear of this dis-ease. They are neutral. Nature is neutral and healing when left alone.” That made me think of Matthew 6;25 where Jesus tells us to behold the birds of the air the flowers of the fields and how He cares for them. I can relate with you about the frustration and the angst. I’m feeling it as well. So many questions and so few answers. But I’m observing as nature continues on as always – and I’m reminded that God has growing plans for each of us. Your piece was thought provoking and beautifully written. Thank you for writing it and for sharing it with us. Blessings.
Barbara,
Thank you. That moment with the hibiscus in the back of a truck was a breath of fresh air for me. We are lining in times that try our souls and because of that; sometimes we just need a reminder and a respite. It seems so odd to ask: “Can’t we all just get along?” these days. But I’m still asking and I won’t stop asking. Blessings!
THIS: “I hope that you’ve found an environment which gives you the courage and the freedom to explore your questions, and the patience to wait for the answers without being pulled on to perform like everyone else, simply because it looks like the right thing to do.”
Such a holy admonition for all of us to do the hard work the Spirit is asking of us. I hear your trauma. I hear you’re weariness. I bless your boundaries, your surrender, your silence.
Tend to your valiant soul, dear friend. We have work to do that is not your burden to carry.
Katy,
Thank you for hearing. Thank you for caring. Thank you for you. Words aren’t sufficient right now. And I can’t insert an “I’m Speaking” because who is listening? Grateful that you are. Forever fondly!
Natasha
It is often in the voices of those workers you describe that I hear Jesus. The farm workers have been my teachers.
Mine too. Nature hold so many answers. I’m studying right now the genetic correlation between our DNA and the perception wrapped around our skin which I’ve learned is our brain. That’s serios food for thought now more than ever. I appreciate you!
Natasha
Mine too. Nature hold so many answers. I’m studying right now the genetic correlation between our DNA and the perception wrapped around our skin which I’ve learned is our brain. That’s serios food for thought now more than ever. I appreciate you!
Natasha
Amen
Amen! Stay strong Claudia!
Best,
Natasha
Thank you, Natasha. I hope you find rest in some playtime and with it, manna for your soul. Those of us for whom it’s well past time to examine what it is we’re sowing from our seed bag will pick up the work for a while. Rest well.
I did until I couldn’t anymore. Then I did it again-Rest that is. Thank you so much for holding space
Natasha
Your post touched the suffering in my heart and invited me to tend to it rather than ignore or numb it. Thank you. You write beautifully and leave me wondering if that older gentleman is okay. You spoke so eloquently of his life, the ingratitude of the masses, and our lack of caring for those to whom we owe a great debt for the beautiful food on our tables. Your writing moved me. Thank you.
Dear Marín,
Thank you so much. I wish that I could have helped him more. I’m sure he’s fine. At least I hope so. So many people who sacrifice for what we take for granted are in dire need of love, healing, food, supplies and respect. The years were evident in his hands. I forgot to mention the weight and weariness in his eyes. It was too much to bear. Pushing through, as I walked towards the truck of hibiscus, I imagined him smiling from a safe place full of joy and health. It’s my prayer that he is there, in that grip of God’s Grace.
Fondly,
Natasha