A Dreary Day, Two Eagles, and an Election

Today was the damp and dreary kind. The kind that tempts with cozy socks and hot chocolate and Jane Austen.

But there’s the job and the motherhood and the housekeeping.

Sigh…

I know I’ve been quiet. In the last several months, my words have stuffed themselves into the cobwebbed caves of my mind, refusing to appear. I’ve stared into the white space of my computer screen with nothing to write.

Truth? I’ve had to shove down panic, anxiously waiting for words to find their way to the surface. Asking my Jesus when the words will come again. It’s been painful, this waiting.

And as I waited, one Scripture repeated over and over.

Do not be hasty to speak, and do not be impulsive to make a speech before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few. Ecclesiastes 5:2 (HCSB)

This.

Let my words be few.

Because God is God. He is in heaven. I am human. I am here on earth.

Let my words be few.

So I’ve been trying to wait and learn and hear.

After the last week, our nation sits fractured. Torn. Struggling. I’ve been at a loss—trying to discover a way to help in the healing. Because we can’t stay this way.

But I’ve had no words.

And then sitting in the sanctuary on Sunday, my Creator-God spoke metaphors into my soul.

It was the image of the two bald eagles. Just two days after the election. Not far from my home here in the Sunshine State. Tearing into one another. Clawing and ripping. Fighting until falling.

Into the gutter—the sewage drain leading to waste and sludge.

Oh friends, the lesson cannot be lost on us.

Honestly, I didn’t want to even write this because if you’re like me, you’re just tired. Tired of the rhetoric, the hate, the bitterness, the fight. I don’t want to read one more word of any of it.

But those eagles. Their symbolic illustration of our America and our fractures. I can’t get their warning out of my mind. Because look at where we will end up if we can’t stop fighting.

I wonder how. How will we stop clutching each other with our razor sharp talons and words? How will we work to heal each other? How will we find spaces where love, respect, and grace can live and grow?

And then I know.

Let my words be few.

Let our words be few.

May the Church approach the Throne of Heaven without a list of how to fix the brokenness, but with words that are few as we lay the fragments of our country at the feet of our Jesus.

When our words are few, maybe, just maybe, kindness and compassion can rise. Because if we leave the rhetoric behind, we have space and room for actions that show care and empathy.

I don’t know how to fix this. Truth is, I can’t.

Because I am human. And I am here on earth. But there is my God. In heaven. So I will approach Him with words that are few, offering up the brokenness I can’t fix.

And that’s a start.

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4 Responses to A Dreary Day, Two Eagles, and an Election

  1. Gail Matthews says:

    Yes. This.

  2. BeckyJoie Oakes says:

    It sounds like you found your words and not just any words but the exact words you needed. Beautiful post. Don’t worry about the writer’s block. It will go in time. We have all been there and in moments like these our nation is currently experiencing, it makes sense to be at a loss for words.

  3. Beautiful. My solitary word.

  4. Lainey Bradley says:

    I’m right there with you. Election was a week ago tomorrow. I’m exhausted from the after effects of fear, uncertainty, sadness for my students whose families don’t feel secure, anger over the denigrating things that have been said among our young people who want to stand up against the hateful talking (my son included.) My words have grown fewer because I feel worn out before I even start a discussion. Now I have read your thoughts and realize it’s better to have fewer words, and more open ears to hear God’s direction. Thank you. Proverbs 3: 5-7!

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