I haven’t been able to fix it.
And while tumbling through the messiness, reaching out for moments of grace, for efforts of truth, for some kind of hope to cling to,
I keep realizing,
I cannot.
Sure there is work, and there are moves, and that whole firm and steadfast power of presence.
But it is still broken.
And no relentless trying of mine will mend it.
So I went for a walk.
This time in the snow.
And with every step, with every crunch, with every very cold, deep breath, with every time I looked up into the squinty-eyed cloudy-bright sky,
I did what the church mothers who raised me always taught me to do.
I gave it to you.
(I’m not sure I even know what that means.)
But God, this one is yours.
This hurt, this worry, this fear.
Hold it.
This struggle, this suffering, this wound.
Hold it.
This ongoing, still totally complicated, unbearably painful whole situation.
Hold it.
And if you would…
Heal us.
Hold us and heal us.


May be an image of tree, nature and snow

The Rev. Erin Counihan serves as Pastor at Oak Hill Presbyterian Church in St. Louis, MO. She is a contributor to the RevGals book.

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