The images and the sounds from yesterday’s bombings in Boston are everywhere. It’s as though we somehow can’t get enough of them. And at the very same time we can’t stand to watch. Both. I find myself turning on the TV and pacing. Listening for….for….for what? What would ease this? Fix this? Heal this? Those injured ones and those who have died. The innocents. My heart just cannot make its way around the irony of those who stood to cheer runners on, lost one or both legs before the race was even finished. How cruel. How tragic. How maddening. For many of us this next Sunday the 23rd Psalm will be read during worship. Years ago I visited a parishioner who was a physician, and who was recovering from surgery. During the visit, we started talking about the 23rd Psalm. When asked what those words meant to him, he said, “These are `anchoring words.’ They are words that we can hold on to when we feel like we’ve lost everything else. They are words that hold us in place and never, ever let us go.” “The Lord is my shepherd,” “yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies,” and “Thou annointest my head,” …“Thou art with me.” So many of these words and phrases have been and continue to be anchoring words. I believe that when we begin to choose which words are ours, we listen more closely for what comes next. It wasn’t that long ago (Linda was pregnant with Sam) that so many of us witnessed hours like these hours. Days like these days. It was New York on a Tuesday morning before. As I recall neighbors were kinder to one another then. Traffic was almost civil here in Atlanta. We looked one another in the eye and realized just how precious this life is that we are living. In these tender days be gentle with yourself and one another. Act and speak kindly. May we find and use our anchoring words for strength, for balance and for grounding. As we carry the sounds and images in our hearts and prayers, may they be accompanied by the living sounds of faith, hope and love. Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison.
Kimberly Parker
4/16/2013 10:53:16 am
Thank you Leslie! In my art group today we talked about finding other images besides what we are hearing or seeing on television. Your blog helped me in that!
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Truman
4/16/2013 11:40:10 am
Thank you!
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Amy McGlvrey
4/16/2013 11:41:46 am
Ms. Brogan: I work in long-term care and inevitably when we offer a Devotions time led by Staff, someone asks for Psalm 23. The experience you shared gives me a new vocabulary to share with Staff just to enhance things a bit. Thank you. My husband and I share coffee every morning and watch HLN. The tears just flowed this morning as the stories unfolded. May God shower His mercy and peace on victims, families, spectators and His justice---His will---upon the perpetrator(s). I hold fast to the belief that while arbitrarily senseless, it is still a beautiful world. Take care. ~Namaste~
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Jane N. Parker
4/16/2013 11:48:14 pm
Leslie, Kimberly shared your thoughts with us. Thank you for wonderful words and thoughts.
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claudia brogan
4/20/2013 12:30:42 am
.."..and hold us in place".... thank you. that's wonderfully said
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Lesley BroganWorking in Family Experience at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta, Lesley is an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ. A Candler School of Theology graduate, Lesley has just published her second book, Grief and the Psalms: Companioning the Moon for 29 Days (available on this website). She and her partner, Linda Ellis are raising their two sons, Brogan and Sam in Decatur, GA. Archives
April 2018
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