Last week, I pondered the small, unthinking cruelties that we humans perpetuate, usually without thought. The week before, I pondered the seeming cruelty of nature. Today, I want to acknowledge that sometimes life can leave us heartbroken—and perhaps that’s to be expected.
In fact, I would dare to argue that being heartbroken is a part of the human condition. I’ve written before about how frustrating it can be to work for change. There are times when following Jesus or working for good in the world can leave us feeling angry, distraught, even hopeless.
The quote above about being heartbroken comes from a talk by Jennifer Harvey, a seminary dean and author of the forthcoming book Antiracism as Daily Practice. I listened to her talk as part of a Faith and Politics series recorded earlier this summer. She talked about how heartbroken she was in 2016, when she let her daughters stay up late, watching election returns because she thought they would get to celebrate the election of the first woman president. Obviously, that didn’t happen.
She then talked about the need to face our losses and grieve. That reminded me of how hard it is to express what American culture considers “negative emotions.” Everything is supposed to be perfect (and I’ll reflect more on that idea of perfection next week).
Fortunately, we have different role models to fall back on. The psalms, for example, model the truth that all of what we feel and fear is fodder for prayer, for dialogue with God. Whatever is challenging in our lives is not off-limits and never has been. God wants to hear it all. Not just the pretty, but also the painful. Not just the joys, but also the grumbling, accusations, anger, fear, uncertainty, distrust, and disgust. We are welcome to lament.
So, let us acknowledge and accept when we are heartbroken. Let us grieve, and grumble, and lament.
At the same time, let us acknowledge that, as Harvey put it, the end of the story has not been written. Eight years after she and her daughters stayed up watching election returns, they’ve got another chance to watch an election for the first woman president. Perhaps this time, good news will come.
What are you heartbroken about? How might you lament? Where can you see that the end of your story hasn’t yet been written?
Thank you for this reminder to “grieve, and grumble, and lament”. It’s one of the reasons I admire and often share with others the work of Mirabai Starr. Her book Caravan of No Despair and her offerings on grief and lamenting are powerful and easily available. We had this discussion at an Oblate meeting yesterday: we often have a perception that we must keep the stories pretty, tidy and picture perfect. I believe we need safe places to unpack these scary emotions as we can become dumbstruck by our historical atrocities and our personal losses and disappointments. I love that none of our stories are finished yet… “always we begin again”… Blessings on you work Shirin. I hope it continues to go wide and deep.
Thank you Joyce, for sharing your heartfelt thoughts. Mirabai is an important role model for us, and I’m glad you have places to unpack your unfinished story. I welcome your blessings and share my own to you!
Peace,
Shirin
I am heartbroken that the US is still sending weapons of mass destruction to Israel, in spite of the fact that this is against our own laws and the Geneva convention and that the great majority of the American people are also against it.
I hear you, and I join you in grieving all the ways we choose violence instead of the hard work of listening our way to coexistence.
Peace,
Shirin