Shalom

  “I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13
 
  My friend brought home a huge bag of birdseed because the natural winter harvest has been depleted. Plants haven’t started producing seeds yet. This is the time of year when songbirds suffer the effects of starvation. While we don’t put out much per day, this morning snack has attracted a wide range of feathered friends.
  One of the most beautiful is a male Cardinal. He vibrant red plumage is a flash of brightness against the bare branches.
  The neighbour to the south has a polished, stainless steel chimney running up the side of their house and extending several feet above the roofline. It would be for a wood stove or fireplace. It’s about twenty inches in diameter and is as shiny as a mirror.
  I’ve seen the Cardinal fly at his reflection time and time again; waging war against the interloper into his territory.
  When he first appeared in the area, one such attack lasted nearly five minutes. The Cardinal flew against himself, up and down the length of the chimney, using his wings to pummel this adversary. Exhausted and unsuccessful he retreated to a branch to catch his breath.
  After a couple of weeks of doing this, the attacks on his reflection aren’t quite so vigorous. But, just to be safe, a few times a day, the Cardinal will perch beside the chimney to give the “interloper” the hairy eyeball. He throws in the odd wing thrashing to make sure this enemy knows he isn’t happy about having him around.  
  He is his own enemy.
 
  Shalom: a Hebrew word whose meaning gets lost in translation. I thought it simply meant “peace be with you.” While I haven’t spent much time thinking about it, Sunday’s teaching revealed a glimpse into the rich, all encompassing nature of this simple blessing; one that is both a hello and a goodbye. It jumped up and touched my soul.
  And I quote, “Shalom isn’t about the idea that individual things are made right, but that all things are in right relationship.”
  Maybe I’ve been tackling the hyper vigilance like my Cardinal friend trying to drive away his reflection. I confess that the sheer magnitude and complexities of this constant inner struggle have left me overwhelmed and heavy hearted.
  Instead of trying to drive it away, what would happen if I welcomed it into the neighbourhood? What would happen if I simply acknowledge it, give thanks for the primal keep-safe response, and allow it to continue? Not that I have any way of stopping it at this point.
 
  Maybe it isn’t about stopping it at all.
  Maybe it’s about accepting it.

  So how do I take this vague and all-encompassing fear and allow it to be shaped into a right relationship with God?
  First of all, I don’t need to be ashamed that there’s something “wrong” with me. I don’t need to be ashamed that I can’t fix it or make it go away. I don’t need to be ashamed of how hard it is to be in a crowd, a busy environment or somewhere new. I don’t need to be ashamed of seeking out a safe corner in unfamiliar environments or ashamed of all the other idiosyncrasies that accompany the need to create feelings of safety.
  I don’t need to be ashamed of a life that was and is influenced by fear.
  Oh! 

  It’s why I am a writer, an artist, musician, a friend, a parent, a grandmother, an employee, a teacher, and a thousand other things seen and unseen. 
  Best of all, it’s why I am a child of God because fear drove me straight into His arms. It does a wonderful job of keeping me there, too.

  So fear is also a gift.
  Shalom, my friends, for today…Shalom.