By Rev. Melinda Giese
At a graduation celebration this past weekend, a woman mentioned that she had been in the mood for ice cream Saturday afternoon and headed to the Puyallup Baskin Robbins with her family. On the way, they saw the huge column of black smoke from the Puyallup cold storage fire and soon realized that the roads to Baskin Robbins were closed and the area had been evacuated. Another friend commented, “Does it feel like things are just piling on at this point?”
Many of us are feeling overloaded right now. Our hearts are breaking for Afghans crowding the Kabul airport, desperately trying to find a way out of the country. We worry about the fate of women and girls and those who helped the government and the U.S. military. We feel for veterans who served in Afghanistan as well as families whose loved ones died or were injured there. We also grieve with Haitians dealing with losses of loved ones, destruction of homes, and a lack of food and water after the recent earthquake. Meanwhile, we continue to cope with ongoing Covid fatigue, hospitals that are once again strained by the numbers of patients, and concern for how schools will manage safety for unvaccinated children. Not to mention this summer’s brutal heat waves, fires, and smoke. Is it any wonder we feel overwhelmed?
One of the quotes I turn to when the world feels overwhelming is this one, paraphrased from a Jewish commentary on Micah 6:8: “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not required to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to abstain from it.”
When we read these words, we often focus exclusively on the idea that even when the world’s problems seem enormous, we are called to do our small part to make things better. This is both true and a very Methodist response! But equally important is the idea that we are not required to complete this work; the scope of the work is simply beyond our ability as individuals or as a community. We cannot fix everything. Walking humbly allows us to acknowledge we cannot do it all and then see more clearly the things we can do.
A former spiritual director once told me that she sometimes felt overwhelmed by the suffering that people shared with her, and I asked her what she did in those times. She said that she would imagine the people in her mind and intentionally place them in God’s care. It was her way of remembering that she did not have the power to fix their suffering or their pain. She could listen and care for them, but then she needed to mentally and emotionally let go and entrust them to God. She did her small part and trusted God for the rest.
Finally, after we’ve done what we can, and trusted the rest to God, we need to take time to renew ourselves as well. If you’re not sure what renewal feels like at this point, I encourage you to take just a couple of minutes to listen to this hymn. May the words remind us of God’s renewing and revitalizing work in us and in all things. May the music give us fresh energy to meet the challenges of this time. And may we remember that God’s kingdom is still on the way, now and always.