Today, I got to stand on hope. Literally.
My family attended the dedication of the new fountain in our favorite local park. We watched this building project for months in our trips to the park. Few things thrill a little boy’s heart more than watching real, live construction. Few things thrill this mama’s heart more than learning the theme of this new fountain: a Peace Fountain.
Before I could even think of the scripture reference for the first verse that came to mind, I learned that powerful words would be etched around this fountain. Quotes from local people who had worked for justice, peace and love would circle around this fountain. I couldn’t wait to see this tangible picture of the prophet’s words, “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” (Amos 5:24)
In our city, like many cities, we need the waters of peace like never before. In our city, like many cities, we have people who work to make the fountain of peace come to life. People gave their time, their expertise. People planted trees, spread pinestraw, and donated bricks. People put themselves into this work.
The fountain is the centerpiece of a park that has been brought back to life. The last time this fountain stood tall was about 1934. This area and this park have been through years of neglect and disrepair. But through the work of a community coming together, transformation is there. It is a whole new scene. It looks like hope.
When my newsfeed began to fill with responses to the latest violence yesterday, hope was not the word that came to mind. What came to mind was anger, sorrow and embarrassment. I was angry at comments that there is nothing to be done. I was sorrowful for the loss of precious lives to violence, again. I was embarrassed by the ridiculous comments from the politicians and the pious. What words could did they really think were okay to post? These memes, these re-posts. How dare they.
Just when I hit my limit of hearing any more words meant to provoke, I read that “God Isn’t Fixing This.” God Isn’t. That’s the bold provocation from this media source that reminds me of the quiet guy in the back of the classroom who cannot listen to it for one more second and flips over the desk. Okay. Deep breath. I hear you. It seems you’ve had enough. Enough with the “prayers for” tweets. Enough with prayers that sound like rallly cries for your team. Enough with prayer as the punctuation to a simple sentence rather than the starting bell to a work day. I hear you. Prayer tweets are just not enough. But I still claim that God is.
God is, through us.
God is making things new. God is bringing life to places where there was almost nothing. On a day when I almost nodded my head that the “fixing” isn’t God’s department, I needed to walk in the park.
I really needed to walk around that fountain today. I needed to stand on a sidewalk that used to be a pile of rubble. I needed to feel the path beneath my feet that was paved by families, groups, and generosity. I needed to see their names. I needed to clap with strangers and listen as children spoke poetry that made a fountain spring to life.
I needed to walk and stand and see so that I could remember how transformation happens. It happens shovel by shovel, brick by brick. People putting themselves into the work of change. Dream by dream and sketch by sketch, there stands a testament to transformation.
You can’t tell me there is nothing to be done because I have stood in a place where it has been done. Peace happens brick by brick.
Also from Erin Robinson Hall
Palm Branches
They held palm branches. Little hands, raised high among the gathered people held symbols of peace and protest. We wanted them to walk. We sang along as they enacted the gospel story. Palm Sunday tradition had them marching and laying their branches at the foot of a reasonably-sized cross. The children of our church waving palm branches. We read the scripture about people who marched with palms. “When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’” A city in turmoil reaches my heart today. One week ago, I was meeting on Zoom with my team, who calls Nashville home. My friend Eileen got a text from her daughter and froze. “It’s a school shooting.” Silence fell. A pause that held the question we parents ask these days: Did this latest shooting reach my child? She breathed and we realized, not this one. A school nearby, down the road. We learned that another team member has family in The Covenant School. They escaped, not physically harmed. Fear, anxiety, and grief washed through us. Within hours, my social media feeds filled with ads for bullet-proof notebooks and classroom walls that transform into bunkers. Bullet-proof barriers for sale, the commodification of our nightmares. The market is ready to respond. Stock prices on guns shoot up, while I stifle an honest Lenten confession: I want the power to protect my family. I need something in my hand so no harm can touch my children. One week later, a walk out is planned. At 10:13 am, the time the school shooting began, thousands of students across Nashville walked out....
Ground | Ordinary Time
The floor we walk on has carpet. Some tile and hardwood. It’s covered in dog hair and sprinkled with lego pieces. My steps wear a path into the carpet upstairs, between the laundry room and kids’ bedrooms. I have learned which spots in the floor will creak and how to step gently like a ninja with no sound. These floors are sacred ground for us. Being mindful of our steps has been part of the healing work we have done for the past several years. Sometimes, the ground we walk has crunching leaves It can feel cold beneath our bare feet, shoes intentionally left inside. In our #traumainformedparenting journey, my husband and I learned early on that there is a magic of touching a different kind of ground with your bare toes. The sensory experience can pull someone away from where memories or triggers have taken them, and bring them back to the present moment. We learned some practices for grounding that have saved us more than once. As many of us know, the basic idea of grounding is to communicate with your body where you are truly located, instead of just listening to the alert signals your body might be sending that make you feel fearful, unsafe, and worried. Grounding can happen by connecting with things you can identify right in front of you. To get you in the present. To remind you, you are safe here. You can breathe, you can use your tools, you can be okay. Grownups can do the 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 practice – five colors you can see, four things you...
I Brave
Deep waters, flames, and fears have come before. They will probably come again. But the narrative I want my child to have, and the narrative I hope to voice continually for myself and for my family is this: Fear doesn’t win. We are strong. And just in case we’re not brave enough, we will be brave for each other.
