- How do you write the unwritable?
- How do you think the unthinkable?
- How do you accept the unacceptable?
- How do you love the unlovable?
How do you make sense of the senseless?
I have been absent these last few days due to a family situation. Someone I love fiercely, with my whole heart, engaged in some highly risky behavior - risking health, freedom, and perhaps life.
And he refuses to see the situation for what it truly was.
- How do you help someone who doesn't believe he needs help?
- How do you break through the wall?
- How do you reach the unreachable star?
- How do you bring the mountain to Muhammad, if Muhammad won't take a step in the mountain's direction?
I bore witness to things this weekend that I never thought I would. I watched helplessly as someone beyond anyone's control save God's veered sharply from the safely paved road onto the bumpy rutted path to nowhere. And I floundered.
All I could do in the end was to minimize the danger as much as I could and stand vigil. And give it up to God.
Never is it harder to admit that we do not have the answers for another than when the stakes are unacceptably high, when they lie close to home, when they strike fear.
When you want to throw up, because the grief inside is making you ill and maybe, just maybe, that would purge the anger and futility you feel.
- How do you help someone find their way home?
- What do you do when you can't do anything?
- Why this person? Why this family?
- How do you fix a broken soul?
When the immediate crisis had passed and panic shrank to deep uneasiness, with the worry settled into my bones like marrow, I lit a candle in the kitchen, bowed my head, and said a small prayer to fill a unfathomable need.
I learned two things this weekend:
- God is the only one who answers our calls for help at 5:00 on a Saturday morning.
- Figuring out the answers is not my job. My job is to light the candle.