Announcements
$.02/meal—Next
collection will be July 21. Can we get $200 again?
VBS—A
big thank you to Janet
Geerlings and all of our VBS volunteers for all the work they
invested this week!
Community
Kitchen Spot
There are a lot of hungry and
homeless children of God and the community needs some help feeding
them. If you would like to help out, please bring the following
items to church this Sunday & put them in the grocery cart.
ZIPLOCK SANDWICH BAGS
BROWN PAPER LUNCH BAGS
# 10 CANS VEGETABLES
COFFEE CREAMER
CEREAL
CANNED TUNA
NAPKINS
METAL FORKS / SPOONS
New
Hope News
Sunday
School—This Sunday, the adult class will continue to study
Revelation. We'll pick up in chapter 4.
Building
& Grounds—There
will be a building & grounds meeting on July 31
@ 6pm.
Speak with Larrie Mansfield if you'd like to attend.
Pray
For:
Polly
Black's family
Norma
Capone
Russell
Mabry
Links
Keith's
Random Thoughts
There's a question we always ask
sick people:
“Are
you feeling any better?”
I've
asked it, and chances are you have, too. Whenever we do ask it,
we're always hoping the answer is 'yes', because then we can move on
and assume that everything will be ok.
Have
you ever noticed your own reaction, or the reaction of others, when
the answer is 'no'?
We
draw back, uncertain of what to say. It's an uncomfortable moment,
and we often fill it with assurances that things will get better,
even when we aren't sure that they will. The raw honesty of 'no'
can make for an awkward conversation, because we're not sure what to
do with 'no'. If it's yes we can be hopeful and joyful, but 'no'....
you just have to sit in the discomfort of 'no'.
This
happened to me the other week. What could I say in response? All I
could offer was 'I'm sorry' and sit and listen to the lament of the
other individual. I could hope that an opportunity to voice their
pain might lead to some healing, even if it wasn't physical. I could
hope that a path forward might appear after they voiced their pain.
But only after. I was
present, but it was not my time to speak.
I
reflect on all of this in light of the Trayvon Martin/George
Zimmerman tragedy. I've read
a lot of reflections on the violence, on the trial, on the
verdict—and what I've noticed is that there is a lot of pain in
this country revolving around race, and while we want everyone to say
that things are getting better, the reality is that we need to listen
to our fellow Americans who are saying that things still hurt, that
there is still raw pain. It's not easy to sit and listen, but only
after hearing their pain can we begin to look forward into creating a
way forward. Perhaps there will be some uncomfortable moments in
there, but if we gloss over the pain of others, what chance is there
for real healing?
This
may be a better time to listen to those whose experiences are vastly
different than mine. This may be a time in which I recognize that
just because I see the world in a certain light doesn't mean that everyone sees the same picture. The pain I may not
see, the pain I don't want to be there, may still be present and
working, and there are people who need to voice their struggles to a
community that cares.
I
don't know exactly what to say in light of everything that's taken
place. And maybe that's ok for now, because maybe right now isn't
the time in which I need to speak. Maybe it's time to listen and to
look, that a path forward may appear in the midst of all of this.
Text
for this Sunday
New
Hope on iTunes
Keith's
Blog
& Devotionals
for your Kindle
No comments:
Post a Comment