In times gone by, erstwhile blood donation drives would use the phrase, Give until it hurts! A clever way to encourage needle-shy people to take the leap, knowing that their short term pain could mean a life saving blessing to someone else out there.
Give until it hurts. This does not sound like an invitation to generosity to me, not today. Not when many (most?) Americans are feeling the financial pinch of the rising cost of food, clothing, electricity, gasoline, heating oil, medications, insurance policies, doctor co-pays, and on, and on, and on.
It puts me in mind of a poem by the Somali poet, Warsan Shire, the closing stanza of which reads,
“i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
it answered
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere.”
Does that resonate with you, faithful travellers?
What is ours to do in this moment when so much of the pain is happening everywhere, everywhere, everywhere around us? How do we counter the death-dealing culture of cruelty that is too much with us? We turn the tides with a revolution rooted in Love. Let us practice turning toward one another; and let us give until some small thing heals. . .
