Today is celebrated as International Women’s Day in many countries. Each year, we remember the lives and struggles of women on various walks of life and we celebrate the spirit and strength of women. As much as we may agree that women deserve to be loved and celebrated every day, there is something special about Women’s Day. Research indicates that International Women’s Day has been celebrated since 1900′s as the world was waking up to radical ideologies and discourses.
Youth and Ecumenism
If I were to group my experiences recently around one theme, it would be that of “youth.” For the current issue of Reformed World we received for review a book titled You Lost Me. Why Young Christians Are Leaving Church and Rethinking Faith. In it author David Kinnaman examines extensive research carried out by the Barna Group to find out why young Americans between the ages of 18 and 29 are leaving the church. This phenomenon has been receiving more and more press in the United States lately. The arrival of this book coincided with an invitation to attend a youth conference at St. Aldate’s Church, which is located at the heart of Oxford, England. The transformation of this very old Anglican church, whose first rector was installed in 1221, into a space to accommodate expressive, contemporary worship was a sight to behold. But the services and ministries seem to be popular among Oxford students. I met several who are working in the church as “interns” for the year, and quite a few among them plan to begin theological studies to prepare for church ministry or go to work for humanitarian organizations afterward.
When I arrived back at Geneva, I almost immediately had to begin making arrangements for a trip to Taizé, France, the site of the ecumenical religious order founded by Swiss Reformed pastor Roger Schütz (Brother Roger). He first came to this rural village in Burgundy in 1940 to offer refuge to Jews fleeing Nazi persecution and to discern a call to follow Christ in community dedicated to reconciliation and peace in a world devastated by war. In the decades to follow, Taizé has become a “parable of community” and a living embodiment of the Christian unity to which the ecumenical movement has aspired. Two days before my departure, Kristine Greenaway, WCRC’s Director of Communications, instructed me and fellow intern Aiko to prepare for the reception of a delegation of fifty brothers and youth volunteers from Taizé to the Ecumenical Centre. They were coming to join the staff in the service for the World Day of Prayer. There would be a program for the group, including a break-out session for which Aiko and I were to prepare presentations on WCRC and our roles this year within it. After we shared, the moderator divided the people into small groups to discuss the question what we saw as the most pressing problem facing young people today. It was interesting for me to hear the contributions in my group from those from Switzerland, South India, and Taiwan. Globalization of course has generated a set of common problems, but there are still issues particular to these regions.
Taizé is a truly remarkable place, a successful ecumenical experiment in which Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Orthodox Christians are together in unity. There is a felt aura of love, peace and joy. With a group from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Geneva, I spent two days there, during which I joined in the community’s worship, listened to a “Bible introduction” on the text in Luke’s Gospel about Jesus’ visit to the home of Mary and Martha, and enjoyed a silent retreat in the woods. But Taizé has become synonymous with youth. Young people from the four corners of the globe stream to the place by the tens of thousands each year. Most of them stay one week, although the volunteers spend one year. They participate in the daily rhythm of worship, work, and play. They meet in groups to share about their search for faith and what it means to live it out. What attracts them? No one knows. The brothers never intended their order to be about youth. But they have been diligent in helping them to find ways to continue their journey of faith, to promote reconciliation and peace in the places where they live. It has been through these efforts that the community eventually launched their “pilgrimages of trust,” involving visits to cities on every continent. And it has been in the context of these events that many have discovered the distinctive Taizé music, those melodic songs consisting in one or two lines that are repeated again and again, making a prayer that is at once meditative and yet accessible to all. Wherever I have gone, in the United States and elsewhere, Taizé music is known and cherished, even by those who have little connection to the church.
These experiences have sustained continued reflection on youth. I wonder how our churches can better serve them in their search for direction and meaning during those years when most will be making important life choices. As for the ecumenical movement, I am becoming increasingly persuaded that the limited resources at its disposal ought to be channeled into promoting what has been called an “ecumenism of fellowship.” It is important to create spaces for Christians when they are young so that later when they become officeholders in their churches or otherwise assume positions of leadership in their communities, they will be less likely to distrust the other, since they are bonded to him or her in friendship. It is from the place of friendship that Christians can work out what it is that still prevents them from full eucharistic fellowship and common witness.
What’s in a Name?
Shakespeare’s famous question posed in Romeo and Juliette was the theme of an address by WCRC’s General Secretary, Setri Nyomi, earlier this week. Nyomi was participating in a panel discussion during the visit of the Archbishop of Canterbury to the Ecumenical Centre in Geneva, Switzerland on Tuesday, 28 February.
In his remarks, Nyomi focussed on the significance to members of the former World Alliance of Reformed Churches (WARC) in the change from being called an alliance to being called a communion. When WARC merged with the Reformed Ecumenical Council to form the World Communion of Reformed Churches, they found themselves in a communion rather than an alliance. What does this mean? Nyomi explored some answers in his address.
From Alliance to Communion – a contribution to Christian unity
“I ask … that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” John 17: 21
The high priestly prayer references that the modern ecumenical movement has constantly used to undergird our commitment continue to inspire us in the quest for Christian unity. The Reformed family continues to do its bit to live this commitment out. The 1986 Belhar Confession, which comes from the South African context not only fosters justice in exposing the evil of apartheid; it in fact is a major statement of faith on Christian unity. It states:
We believe that unity is, therefore, both a gift and an obligation for the church of Jesus Christ; that through the working of God’s Spirit it is a binding force, yet simultaneously a reality which must be earnestly pursued and sought: one
which the people of God must continually be built up to attain.
This is just one of the pointers to our commitment to Christian unity. We recognise that healing and reconciliation within one church family can be a contribution to Christian unity. We are aware that the Reformed family has a tendency to divide – a reputation we are not proud of. Somebody has said if you are trying to put two Presbyterian churches together – the result is often three. So we do have a responsibility to reverse this and to contribute positively to Christian unity. It is for this reason that we are grateful to God for the process that led to the unity of two Reformed global bodies in June 2010 which also resulted in our intentionally taking on the identity of a communion.
The June 2010 event brought the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, an organisation which had its beginnings in 1875, and the Reformed Ecumenical Council, with beginnings in 1946, together to form the World Communion of Reformed Churches. This marked healing within the Reformed churches. In the twentieth century, new signs of division in the Church of Christ were introduced – Christian right-Christian left, Conservative-liberal, etc. This also had an impact within the Reformed family with WARC: where those who were described as liberal gravitated towards WARC and those who felt more comfortable with the conservative label moved towards the REC. In June 2010, we said “No” to such division and came together in one body – the World Communion of Reformed Churches. I see this as something larger than ourselves – not just an intra communion phenomenon. That healing and reconciliation within the Reformed family is a contribution to Christian unity as a whole.
The identity we chose in this unity – a communion is significant. Even before the merger was decided upon, the old World Alliance of Reformed Churches began a process to question our identity as an Alliance. An alliance is a kind of military term in which parties who normally would not agree together enter into an agreement to do something together usually to confront or fight an enemy together. That is the label we had for more than a century – an Alliance of churches holding on to the Presbyterian system. So around 2003, we began a theological reflection process to question how we could move beyond being an alliance into a quality of relationship within the family that honours God more and enables us to contribute in a stronger way to the quest for Christian unity. Our then Theology Secretary, Dr. Odair Pedroso Mateus produced a good discussion paper which helped in this process of reflection.
It was providential (providence – a good reformed word) that in 2006 we started a process of uniting WARC and REC. And we placed the quality of our relationships in this process. Our consultations with our member churches confirmed this desire to raise the quality of our relationships and to define ourselves more faithfully in terms of koinonia – rather than simply as an Alliance or an association. We enshrined in the first article of our constitution as a communion the following words:
The churches in the World Communion of Reformed Churches are called together in the name of the one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Under the sovereign God, with Christ’s followers across the globe, sharing one baptism, the members of the communion belong to the one holy catholic and apostolic church.
With these words we celebrate our oneness as the Reformed family and a higher quality of relationship in altar and pulpit fellowship. But we did not do so as an exclusive club. We were intentional about belonging to the one holy catholic and apostolic church. This is a part of Reformed heritage. John Calvin in a lecture to a former Archbishop of Canterbury – Thomas Cranmer – in 1553 stated that he was ready to cross ten seas for the sake of Christian unity. Our DNA tells us, “To be Reformed is to be ecumenical”. Being a communion therefore unites us to continue working for Christian unity. It is an ecumenical call. This in the words of the Belhar Confession is both a gift and obligation.
Remembering Marie Colvin →
I am shocked by the death of Marie Colvin. Lyse Doucette, a Canadian journalist working for BBC World, knew her well. Her tribute last night on BBC World Service was beautiful and heartfelt. Her interview with Colvin’s mother was sensitive and revealing. Another Canadian journalist friend, Carol Perehudoff, posted the following comment to her blog. I think she is unduly hard on herself. She is a good writer and she cares about things that matter. Sure, she writes an entertainment-travel column and assumes the persona of a girl who travels for a good time. But her reaction to Colvin’s death and the books she references in her blog entry about it, reveal the real Carol, the Carol I know. May we all be so reflective about ourselves and what we can do in the aftermath of this death and the many others in Syria.
wanderingcarol.com
The tragic death of Marie Colvin
IEF Trier, Weaving Ecumenism
Back at Robert-Schuman-Haus, the International Ecumenical Forum is opened with a series of welcome messages, a dinner, and then we were gathered outside the main hall, facing a weaving loom that had been displayed there.
The loom
The weaving loom had been specially made for this event. It is a traditional loom. White yarn has been set up as the warp (that is the lengthwise yarn), held in tension by wooden weights. Yarn in different colours are provided, some have been woven into the loom. The idea was that during the length of the forum, everyone is invited to weave in a coloured band to the cloth, either using the yarn provided, or adding their own.
A speaker came to tell a story about ancient customs in the middle east, where a mother would weave a robe for her child from the beginning of her pregnancy until the child is considered an adult. This robe would therefore hold every tear and joy of the mother, her hopes and dreams for the child. It is said that the reason why the Roman soldiers did not want to tear Jesus’ robe was because they were thinking of his mother, and their mothers.
In the same way the cloth produced during the International Ecumenical Forum is to be a diary of our journey together, the different colours representing each of our traditions, histories, backgrounds, experiences, woven together.
I reflected further on this and couldn’t help but thinking that the white yarn, the warp, is the perfect symbol for God… it is God who holds each of our differences together, who makes it possible for us to come together, who joins us together (the theme of the forum, by the way, is a prayer: “and join together what is separated”, although the German sentence has a bit more significance in my opinion). Oh, and if you paid attention during Science class, you would know that white is not a colour, but rather what you see when all the colours of the rainbow are blended together. Now… how’s that for a reflection?
the bishop of Trier weaving in his yarn
IEF Trier, prelude
It was about midday when my train arrived in Trier from Luxembourg. It was snowing. I read the instructions on the e-mail I printed out once again to check the bus number I’m supposed to take. Saw the bus stop for it, but it seems to be going the other direction. Gulp. Time to put my German at work. Asked a bus driver, who told me to get on the bus stop two blocks down the road. Oh-oh-kay.
After fifteen minutes of waiting, the bus arrived, I jumped in and decided to get off at the alternative bus stop mentioned in the list. I would never know whether the first bus stop would’ve been a better option, but there I was at the bus stop when I realized that the German word “aufwärts” actually meant having to go uphill.
So, picture this: snow. wind. 10kg backpack + 2kg handbag. going uphill to find the seminary where the event is located. I felt like I could make a good photo of myself for the competition held by the diocese of Trier as part of their upcoming pilgrimage event. The competition calls for, you’ve probably guessed it, photos of pilgrims.
What’s this whole business of pilgrimage, you ask? Well, apparently, the holy robe (aka the seamless robe or the holy tunic — as in the one that was lotteried between the Roman soldiers at the crucifixion of Jesus) is kept at the Trier Cathedral. The robe was first displayed for public in 1512, and last in 1996, where thousands of people came to do a pilgrimage to see it. Now, this year, the robe will be displayed for public again in the event of the 500th anniversary of it’s first appearance, and the diocese is preparing a whole set of events for this holy robe pilgrimage. This includes inviting the Protestant churches to attend as well.
I’m going to assume that you know your church history well enough to know that relics are one of Protestantism’s pet peeves, to put it VERY mildly.
However, the leader of the EKD (Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland aka German Evangelical Church, which speaks for 22 Lutheran, Reformed, and United Land Churches) has accepted this invitation with great pleasure, noting however that the pilgrimage should not be seen as a visit to see the robe but rather a Christ pilgrimage, a moment to come together in remembrance of the sacrifice of Christ.
It is therefore in the spirit of this Christ Pilgrimage that the Ecumenical Forum is held. Furthermore, the robe itself, as described in John 19:23, “was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.” thus making it a great image for ecumenism, but I’ll get back to that later.
After climbing the hill and making a round trip around the building (due to not knowing where the front entrance was — thereby completing my pilgrimage route), I was at the Robert-Schuman House, where the Ecumenical Forum will take place. Since it is located on a hill, I have a wonderful view of the city from my room.
The event, however, opened with an ecumenical service at the Trier Cathedral. I couldn’t quite follow the service because I haven’t received the order of service booklet yet and I was still trying to get used to listening to all that German, but being in a massive cathedral, surrounded by hundreds of people and seeing leaders of different denominations standing in front evokes all sorts of wonderful feelings of God’s presence.
photo credit: IEF website
After the service, we were to take the bus back to Robert-Schuman-Haus, but we had to walk through the snow in order to get to the bus. I was angry at myself for leaving my umbrella behind when an older guy offered to share his umbrella with me. He was in fact a retired (Catholic) priest who was heavily involved in the ecumenical movement during his office. It was interesting how he told me how much the ecumenical movement has actually progressed in the last 40 years or so — and I thought we were pretty stagnant!
Coming up next… welcome messages and weaving ecumenism, literally!
Report Time — Warning: a series of post will be coming up!
So, I got back to Geneva yesterday after having spent 11 days (that felt like 11 months) travelling in 3 countries. Happy to be back despite the weather forecast saying things like “Partly cloudy. High of -7°C with a windchill of -21°C. UNSEASONABLY COLD. Winds from the NNE at 25-30 km/h.”
The main reason for my trip was to attend the “International Ecumenical Forum” held in Trier from January 30th to February 3rd, which was a wonderful, inspiring and enriching event. Other than that, I also went to Brussels (Belgium, country #1), Luxembourg (country #2) and several cities in Germany (country #3), including the city I was born in.
I will be writing about the experiences I had, especially in Trier, possibly broken up to a few posts in order to avoid writing one super long post nobody would have time to read.
Just wanted to give you a heads up on that 
Intern Workshop: Visit to Aspasie
As part of our ecumenical engagement, interns who work at the Ecumenical Centre come together every now and then to do interesting things together, such as our outing to the UN a few months back. Our latest event was a visit to Aspasie, an organisation that “defends the rights of sex workers, offering hospitality, information, prevention and support.”
Before I continue, I must state that prostitution is indeed legal in Geneva, and it is regulated — that is to say that one would have to register with a special department to be eligible for sex work. This includes working on the streets, in cabarets, bars, salons, etc. The so-called “Red Light District” of Geneva is the area of Paquis, where Aspasie’s offices are located.
The organisation was founded in 1982 by Grisélidis Réal, herself a sex worker (and much more, but that’s a different story), and several concerned friends. Thirty years later, it is mainly funded by the city of Geneva, with special projects being funded by donors.
The name Aspasie comes from Aspasie de Milet, known in English as Aspasia, a courtesan famous for her relationship with Pericles, the stateman and general of Athens circa 495 – 429 BC.
Aspasie has 8 full-time staff members in charge of different programs and is directed by a board of volunteers with many different backgrounds. Aspasie provides psychosocial support via their center, where staff members are available to give counselling and other help (including help with their tax calculation). Aspasie also does outreach work to help reduce STD and drug use risks. They have special programs for male sex workers and also programs targeting the clients of sexworkers (interestingly enough called “Don Juan”).
Aspasie also has a study center (where we met, actually) equipped with literature and historical documents related to this line of work.
I personally think that the work that Aspasie is doing is indeed important work, but I’m having trouble understanding their “non-abolishionist” position, as it seems to me that one would have to be pretty desperate to even consider doing sex work (or otherwise coerced/threatened/etc. into it, which is acknowledged but not the main area of work for Aspasie especially because this is hardly the case here in Geneva). But then again, I guess there could indeed be different reasons for choosing to do this, and I am totally for the abolishing of the stigmatization that comes with this profession.
Thinking about this brings also to mind a little list of sex workers that I have actually come to admire. The first person is a fictional character in a novel by an Indonesian author. This character, Diva, is a high-class prostitute. In one of the scenes in the novel, one of her clients asks her: “why does a bright, beautiful young woman like yourself, who could easily get any corporate job she wants, choose to do this instead?” and she answers: “I would much rather prostitute my body than prostitute my mind to these corporate people”. Now that’s a thought to ponder.
The other people in this list of mine would include Mata Hari, the spy, and of course Grisélidis Réal, who was very much a human rights activist and who was so highly regarded that she deserved a spot (despite controversies) to be buried at the “Cemetery of the Kings”, not so far in fact from the place where John Calvin himself is supposedly buried (there’s a whole lot more controversies to that).
Week of Prayer for Christian Unity
This is the first day of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (January 18-25).* The observance began in 1908 and was called then the Octave of Christian Unity, because it spans not seven but eight days. The dates were proposed by Fr. Paul Wattson, of the Graymoor Franciscan Friars. He designated the Feast of the Chair of St. Peter as the first day and the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul as the concluding day. Wattson was a convert from Anglicanism to Roman Catholicism. It is easy to see in the dates the connection he drew between the Petrine office and Christian unity.
In 1935 Abbè Paul Couturier of Lyons, France advocated “prayer for the unity of the Church as Christ wills it, and in accordance with the means he wills.” This expansive formulation created the space for Christians with diverging views on the Petrine ministry to share in the prayer in good conscience. From Couturier, known to posterity as the “father of spiritual ecumenism”, we have the name “universal week of prayer for Christian unity.” Since 1968, the Commission of Faith and Order of the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity of the Roman Catholic Church have been preparing materials together for Christians who wish to observe this week.
The theme for this year is drawn from 1 Corinthians 15:51-58: “We will all be changed by the victory of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Additional biblical readings, commentaries, prayers and questions for reflection are appointed for each of the eight days, so that Christians can explore different aspects of what the theme means for their lives and their unity with one another, in and for the world.
The Gospel reading for the first day is Mark 10: 42-45. “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” It invites us to meditate on the connection between unity and service. At first glance, the connection may not seem obvious. Does not unity have above all to do with unity of belief and conviction? The Faith and Order movement insisted that the beginning of unity was to be found in clarifying what is required de fide (concerning faith): “concerning God and Christ, man and the future world . . . of discipline with regard to the ministry, the sacraments, marriage and the Christian life.”
But before the first Faith and Order conference was held in Lausanne in 1927, there was the universal Christian conference on Life and Work in Stockholm two years earlier. The motto of that movement was: “doctrine divides, but service unites.”
Here we come back to our theme. The opposition between service and doctrine was one that the ecumenical movement ultimately rejected, but if we are honest with ourselves we would have to admit that the point of the motto rings true to experience.
I will illustrate the point from my own experience. When I was in seminary training to be a pastor, I was sent to a rural church in the midwestern region of the United States. I was apprenticed to a pastor with whom I was to serve this church for one year. From the outset I had difficulties in getting along with him. I was critical of his preaching, which I felt contradicted the message of God’s free grace, of God’s kindness shown to us in Jesus Christ. In my mind, he erred in his doctrine. It was not long before I even began to resent having to work with him.
One evening I was working late at the church. The pastor walked by my office. I went out and began to complain to him about his neglecting to do something I had asked of him. This provoked him and our conversation once again became tense. In the course of our conversation, he paused to say: “By the way, David’s mother called me. She asked us to pray for her son.” Everything at that moment changed. David was the teenage son of a member of our congregation, a leader, in fact, who had just been sentenced to several years in prison for a very serious crime. David was acting out.
Our focus immediately shifted from our interpersonal conflict to a real need in our church we were both called as pastors to respond to. I would like to say that at that moment our relationship was transformed, but that was not the case. But in retrospect it was a turning point. After I finished my year at the church, I didn’t see the pastor until nine or ten years later at a meeting of church leaders. When we saw each other, we shook hands warmly. We shared a meal and reminisced. He was a mentor to me in ways neither of us could see at the time. More importantly, today I feel that in him I have a true friend.
Service unites, but doctrine divides? Perhaps, but in our service, in our response to real human need, we implicitly recognized in each other the faith we both had confessed at our classis examinations in seminary. In his book Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, Richard Rohr observes: “There is a strange and even wonderful communion in real human pain.” I would add here that insofar as this pain mobilizes our response to it in solidarity and service is there this communion. I certainly experienced it at the church I served.
In this kind of communion, do we not have the “safe space” in which we can in mutual trust explore together the doctrines that continue to divide us–in commitment to one another, to the world, and to truth?
*I invite the readers of our blog to participate in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The materials mentioned above can be found at http://www.oikoumene.org/fileadmin/files/wcc-main/documents/p2/2011/WOP2012eng.pdf
Post Tenebras Lux
I promised in my short introductory piece in the latest edition of the Reformed Communiqué (read it online) that I will write more on the blog, so here I go.
It was March, and I was juggling a number of responsibilities: I was doing a pastoral internship at my congregation, I was the coordinator of events in our Church’s Easter celebration committee, I was preaching/teaching in several other congregations in many different occasions, I was writing my thesis… not to mention some family and relationship issues.
The truth is, one of the main reasons why I chose to write about pastoral burnout was because I wanted to know more about it as I sense myself being on the verge of a burnout. The thought that my only option after graduation would be to follow through with the series of steps required to become ordained was NOT helping.
It was in the middle of all this that Douwe’s e-mail reached me. I told him I would be highly interested in applying for the internship, but that I would have to check with my church about their plans. Everything was very uncertain except for the little voice in me saying that this internship might be exactly what I needed. And yet there are so many questions surrounding this opportunity that I really needed a sign. Any sign.
I always do my devotional reading before going to bed, and so it happens that after replying Douwe’s e-mail I got ready for bed.
I do not remember which devotional book it was, who wrote it or what the title of the devotional was, but I remember this verse:
Remember how the LORD your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. (Deuteronomy 8:2, NIV)
and I remember what the devotional was about. It was about how at certain times in our lives, we also are led through the wilderness, it might be in the form of a life experience, or maybe a trip, a place to go… this was when I realized that this could be Geneva for me. The wilderness where God is leading me to.
As it turns out, indeed God led the way for me to arrive in and going through the wilderness of Geneva.
Now, I mentioned in my Communiqué piece that everything has been a blessing after another. I was happier than ever. I was pretty sure I had gone through the darkness I was going through back in the beginning of the year. I look at the motto of the canton of Geneva, taken from the Reformation: Post Tenebras Lux (After darkness, light) and thought “how appropriate!”
Yet, a set of unfortunate events happened to me during the holiday period.
First, I got pickpocketed at the train station and lost my iPod. Then, the flat next to mine got on fire — while my place is now safe except for the smoky smell on some of my clothes and random patches of ash, it was quite a horrible ordeal to go through: running out of the apartment with thick black smoke chasing you and waiting outside in the freezing cold while you see smoke filling your apartment and six firetrucks arriving and firemen rescuing people, and so on. Soon after, an ordeal with the health insurance company left me with 13franks in my bank account (and 20 in my wallet), and I was pretty much devastated. This was this Tuesday.
All I really wanted to do was to breakdown and cry, preferably curling up under the duvet in my bed, but of course I was at work. Later on, on my way home, I still felt like breaking down, but the cold wind seemed to dry my tears away. Then I started thinking about Geneva being my wilderness.
It should’ve been obvious that going through the wilderness couldn’t be like a summer afternoon walk in the park, and while we often talk about the Israelites being grumpy, ungrateful people, I imagine none of us would do better if we had to go through what they were going through. The wilderness would’ve been uncomfortable, the view was probably not the best ever, the walk tiring, the sun scorching, the wind blowing sand into your eyes… and seriously, the exact same food EVERY DAY?
And then I thought, well, this series of unfortunate events, these problems that come up in life, these things that make you feel uncomfortable, tired, exhausted and sad, they’re sort of necessary. They keep your life balanced, you know, if you’re happy all the time you will not know that you’re happy, but if something sad happens somewhere in between, you will know how it feels like to be happy. And it’s also a test. Whoops, problem. How are you going to handle it this time?
The beauty of it all is that God is walking with you, he is leading you through the wilderness. Which means that these things will pass. You’ll make it through. And once you’ve made it through, you’re changed, you’re stronger, you have a story to tell, you can help others in their walk too. Post tenebras, lux… You see the light again.
