More Thoughts

 

  “Cry out for insight, and ask for understanding. Search for them as you would for silver; seek them like hidden treasures.” Prov 2:3-4

 

  I needed to go to church yesterday. I needed to be with my people, my friends. I needed to be a part of the collective grief and know that I am not alone.

  The Meeting House has suspended its planned teaching for the Lenten season leading up to Easter. Yesterday, four of the teaching pastors gathered on stage and shared their feelings, their heartbreak, their pain. There were no polished notes. There were no thought provoking questions.

  It was real.

  I am grateful the events leading up to this point are not going to be set aside as though they never happened. Instead, they are being met with courage and openness, vulnerability and truth.

  One of the good and kind men I wrote about in my last post approached during the few minutes we spend greeting each other. He hugged my friend and turned to me, arms open. Part of me wanted to put my hand up and rebuff this sign of friendship. Part of me was aware of the damage it would cause. Not by hurting him (which it would have) but because such an act would have reinforced my own fear.

  I did cringe the moment he put his arms around me. But, hey, it took years for me to reach the point I could even accept his brotherly embrace.

  I don’t want to start over.

  I don’t want to obliterate all the work the Lord has done in my heart because of fear. Maybe I should say I don’t want fear to steal the good things from my life. It’s already done too much of that.

  So why am I afraid to forgive Bruxy?

  Is it because I don’t fully understand forgiveness?

  Forgiving him doesn’t mean I condone what he has done. It doesn’t mean turning a blind eye.

  Does it mean I have to let go of the anger I feel for the far reaching damage he left in his wake? Okay. Yes. But I am still unraveling how deep the damage is personally and socially. Cringing at simple human touch is only the tip of the iceberg.

  To see the pain etched on my own pastor’s face breaks my heart.

  To end on a positive note, I have recovered from a two week battle with Covid. This morning's RAT test was clear. It lost. 

  So will evil.