Well, friends, it seems I was right to be worrying about winter wildfires in last week’s blog post. The wildfire situation in Los Angeles is horrific as I type, and I can’t imagine it will be much better by the time I post this in a few days. My prayers are with all who are affected by the destruction of these fires.
I’m also pondering how we are called to respond, as spiritual beings, to the destruction of “this fragile earth, our island home.” I’ve always loved this line from Eucharistic Prayer C in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. Today, I’m particularly focused on the fragility of our planet. As our societies continue to exploit its riches with no thought for tomorrow, I’m reminded of a handful of memes I’ve seen on social media that comment aptly on how certain billionaires could be focused on fixing the situation here at home for us all rather than seeking to start colonies on other planets—and presumably treat them just as abominably.
So what are we, who do not have billions at our disposal, called to do? As Bishop Steven Charleston has so rightly noted, natural forces and societal events are out of our control. Rather than bemoaning this, he invites us to concentrate on adapting and keeping our balance. He invites us to become like water: flexible and open to change.
Water seems like a particularly apt image in this moment, given that it is the best antidote to wildfire. Yet we cannot control the weather or water distribution either. We can only do our part to keep our own patch of ground moist and well-tended.
For me, this includes not only my yard and garden, but also my soul. If I get so stressed and dried out that any emotional, political, or social spark can ignite an internal wildfire, I am of no help to anyone, including my suffering neighbors in California.
Therefore, I commit to watering my soul as well as my yard. I commit to practicing inner peace and stillness, prayer and flexibility, no matter what literal and metaphorical fires come my way. (Of course, we’ll see if I’m able to maintain that stance when the sparks fly and destruction looms…but that is my intent and desire for 2025.)
Will you join me in making a commitment like this? What will yours say?
Amen Shirin!
Thank you, Carla! May you choose meaningful commitments this year!
Peace,
Shirin
Cultivating inner peace–yes, that’s the big challenge. What helps me in that endeavor is remembering that I don’t know everything. As Richard Rohr says, it helps us to remain humble. I don’t know how God will work all this out, but I trust that God will. I love Rohr’s wonderful saying, “It will all work out right in the end, and if it’s not right, it’s not the end.”
Thank you, Aston, for reminding us of our small part in a much bigger picture. Yes, we are a long way from any kind of resolution….
Peace,
Shirin
❤️. That’s all I’ve got right now. Thought provoking … how do I take care of watering my soul and what actions does that take me to? Devastating to think about all that is happening in CA. It’s not too far from where my child/ grandchildren live and sometimes the thought paralyzes me. I can also become paralyzed by the politics that is probably behind a lot of the issues contributing to the fires in terms of prevention, use of resources, and awareness.. All I can do is thank God for the people who are involved in rescue and restoration.
I hear you, Joyce, and bringing thankfulness is significant in a political climate full of righteous condemnation and judgment. May we continue to be thankful for the many gifts in our lives and spread that attitude of gratitude as a soul-watering exercise!
Peace,
Shirin