Hope in Individuals
While the whole of things appears broken to the core and every new headline brings another moment of grief, anxiety, and anger, I am remembering the agency I have to note where I am experiencing hope each day. This week, hope was found in individuals, the small community moments that stacked up against the giant Goliath of the government and news. Little Davids restoring and mending their corners of this beautiful world.
The Latin term missio dei, means the “Mission of God,” which is expressed as a vision toward wholeness and restoration for all creation, where individuals are the instruments of bringing this mission to life. In these times, it is individuals that are partners in renewing my faith in the present and for the future.
This week’s mission discovery was that of the organization called Mission of Mercy (learn more by clicking on the name) in Frederick, MD. Since 1994, this organization has provided “care without barriers.” They do this through a special mission:
“Healing through Love” is primary in our mission. As we strive to heal someone – whether they are physically, spiritually, emotionally, or physically broken – we know that approaching that person with genuine Love provides at least as much healing as the physical services we provide. At Mission of Mercy, our product is Love. Our vehicle is medicine.
All of this happens because of individual nurses and doctors who volunteer their skills and time so that human beings can receive necessary healthcare. When barriers to this human right abound, Mission of Mercy reminds people of their worth. Perhaps, I wondered with a friend, more of these kind of people and organizations will start to shine their light over the shadow of these times. As Mr. Rogers’ mom used to tell him when he was young and he’d see scary things in the news, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”
This week, I sat on my front porch for my morning coffee meditation time. There, I watched barn swallows make their creation against my home, one protecting the other as they sat in the strange nest they’ve attached to the stones on the wall of my porch. Early in the week, I relished in the delight of conversations with a host of people, generous with kindness, on a lovely trip to Lost River with a friend who brought me flowers. After a long day, I curled up with a bowl of homemade soup made and delivered by my mom. Over and again, I witnessed and remembered, we are all bound together by the most ancient language of all.
