A Space for Prayer

The murder of George Floyd

Covid-19

Economic depression

I have to admit, these past two weeks, I have been struggling. Just one of the aforementioned crisis would be enough, and yet, we have all three.

Anger.

Protests.

Sorrow.

A few days ago, I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling wondering where are the leaders? Where are the voices of inspiration? Where is the healing?

That was my low point. Through the tears, I though of precious George, calling out for his Mama, and my Mama heart ached. I wanted to pull him close and comfort him. It was too much…so it seemed.

So, I held onto that moment. I felt the pain and anguish of African-Americans and people of color throughout American history and throughout world history. I sat in my pain and let the tears come. I did not run away.

I am a white woman, and it is up to me to recognize my white privilege and do something. For two weeks, I had been on auto-pilot. Just going through the motions. Working. Moving. Cooking. Sleeping. Parenting.

But something in that moment shifted for me. It felt seismic. Transformative. As I reached out to my understanding of Love, I felt her respond.

With tears rolling, I felt Love gently whisper: stop waiting for the leaders. Become the leader. You, Shelly, become the healer. Get out of bed and get to work.

And that is what I did. It was as if a warm blanket was wrapped around my shoulders. The gentle hand of Love pulled me up.

And I am ready.

I leave you with this glorious Navajo Chat that I happened upon. May it bring you the peace and comfort you are looking for.

The mountains, I become part of it…

The herbs, the fir tree, I become part of it.

The morning mists, the clouds, the gathering waters.

I become part of it.

The wilderness, the dew drops, the pollen

I become part of it

Peace and Love, Shelly