Restoring Hope
Katie Harmon-McLaughlin of Sacramento, CA, USA
Hannah prayed and said, “My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in my God.” -1 Samuel 2:1a
It has become a ritual that after dinner, our little family of three readies the stroller, puts the dog on her leash, and walks around our local, urban park. It is a life-giving practice as we care for our bodies, find space for meaningful conversation, enjoy time in nature, and are present with other people in our neighborhood.
One evening, just Emma (my daughter) and I walked the park together as beams of setting sun light burst through tall palm, pine, and sycamore trees. Occasionally, she would giggle or sing or babble, watching the world go by from her stroller-view, but mostly we were both quiet observers, absorbing the beauty around us.
As we walked the park’s perimeter, we passed many different kinds of people-joggers fitted with the latest technology and a man without a home asleep on the bench with all of his belongings scattered around him. We passed people of different ethnicities and religions and heard many languages spoken along the path. This park, in the middle of the city, was drawing each of us in our diversity to run and walk and rest and play in holy, common space.
With each step, and each gentle noticing of the sacredness of the people I passed, I felt my heart soften and open. Suddenly, I was immersed in the awareness of complete belonging with all these people-holding back tears as I pushed the stroller. “We are in this together,” I remembered, “we are here.” I knew that I was part of the “we,” as was Emma, and every person we passed, and the dog splashing through the mud puddle, and the squirrel in the sycamore tree, and the tree itself. I glimpsed for a time, by grace, the inextricable interconnectedness that is at the heart of all life.
Sometimes simply choosing to show up where community is happening can restore hope. Each stranger’s passing smile was further evidence of the inherent goodness so often buried by the latest cause for despair. When I feel overwhelmed by the immensity of the challenges before us, I walk to the park, and rest for a time in the presence of all these sacred people, and remember that none of us are in this alone.
Prayer Phrase
“Over the years we melt into what we seek” (Joan Chittister, The Liturgical Year).
Spiritual Practice
We are in the threshold between seasons in the Christian calendar. You may have been noticing the physical transitions of the seasons wherever you live as some enter the depths of winter and others the warmth of summer. The seasons are a visible reminder that even among the most predictable rhythms and routines of our lives, change is always happening. The events of our moments, days, weeks, years form us and transform us over time. We enter each season different from when we arrived here last. This is the nature of this cyclical journey of faith. In these final days of the Christian calendar and the season of Ordinary time, there is opportunity to take a sacred pause, to notice how you arrive in this threshold. What have you been formed by this year? What has been deepening you as you’ve lived through another cycle of this life of faith?
Today’s Prayer for Peace
Engage in a daily practice of praying for peace in our world. Click here to read today’s prayer and be part of this practice of peace.
