If you know me, you know I love hymns. I love the cadence and the meaning behind the words. I love that hymns are old and that my elders sang them out of liberation of their bodies and souls. Hymns are not the types of songs most of my friends nor my children’s friends sing. I am determined to make sure my grandkids know all my favorites though! That way when I am long gone my grands will remember our special times singing songs together.
Tonight, my heart aches. Our family is facing (another) hard time. Most of the past few years have been hard from an emotionally. We have experienced conflict, loss, health issues, misunderstandings. Despite the pain, we have always tried to return to love.
I write a lot about love and justice. Love of self and others. Justice for self and others. Sometimes we are our own worst enemies. Or our own negative self-talk. Other times it is our minds fighting against our hearts. Fighting for love and justice is hard when we are fighting against our own selves.
Tonight, my husband and I are holding space for someone we love. Holding space means that we are doing our part to provide emotional and spiritual support — and space — so that our loved one can boldly step into the unknown. Holding space does not mean fixing things, even when we want. It means saying, ‘I know this journey you’re facing seems overwhelming but I know you can do it.’
When is the last time you held space for anyone?
Holding space is not making things better. It is being present. But it is also letting the other person sit with whatever they are holding. Your/my role is to be there to listen and support, not to soothe.
I shared in my last post that I had recently done my Enneagram. Suppressing my ‘fix it spirit’ during my loved ones’ time of distress is the ultimate form of torture for me. I am literally screaming in my head, “Why Lord?!?!?!?! Why can’t you give me the answer to this current drama? I can fix it Lord; I just need a little help.”
As nuts as I sound I know I mean every word. I want to take the pain away from those I love.
The silence in return is more painful than words.
You and I both know God does not work this way. Justice does not work this way. We must each walk our own journey’s.
So, I sit on my bed typing ‘it is well with my soul’…even when it’s not.
It is well with my soul, even when it’s hard.
It is well with my soul, even when I don’t want it to be.
It is well with my soul, even when I feel all alone.
It is well with my soul, even when every leader I looked to has failed me.
It is well with my soul, when the only thing I have to show for myself is my mistakes.
It is well with my soul, when all I can hear is silence.
But what the hell is the ‘it’?
What does it look like when my heart/mind/spirit/relationship is not in conflict with my soul?
Tonight, as I sit here thinking and praying for my loved one, my hurting heart says ‘it is well’ — and I believe it.
Will you join me in wishing my loved one well?
Thank you. Namaste. Ashe. Amen.