The night before last, I slept with the light on. This rodeo is scarier than the others, but there was also unsettled fear for far away step-granddaughter, step-great-grandson, and others in the family, both far and near. All of which came on the heels of a grandson’s newest continuing facial reconstruction surgery. Thankfully, there were hours in between some of these matters, in which hope and trust lived in me. None, though, were things I could help resolve, I guess, and I guess nothing makes us feel more vulnerable than to be completely in the dark about things.
So, we turn on a light, and that’s alright. Whatever gets us through the night! Though I have now removed my chance for being in the New England Book of Irritating Stoics. 😦 Ah, well. It’s alright, because some of those become — and some always were — compassionless for living others. Ugh. There is nothing scarier than that.
I’m guessing that even St. Peter slept under some light one of those two nights of baffled helplessness. He’d already been Told what his part was going to be — that he would indeed fail a proof of human love, so I hope he didn’t berate himself raw from the soul on out — hope he realized all through it that he was Loved, but he was Irish like Thomas O’Didymus, so my hope of that is nil. (Irish = stubborn, proud, fierce, good-looking, doubting, and scare-able.)
The older I get (the more alone where it matters most), the more I sense just how alone Jesus felt after He left home, but also the more I am amazed at how gracious Jesus was to all the non-valid troubled around Him. He had (has!) immense compassion for the ill, injured, homeless, spurned, poor and poor in spirit, but his compassion was also not withheld from those who embraced/caused many sins. He wanted them to understand what life was really supposed to be about, too. He’d wanted that for all 33 years of Him — and beyond. And before!
He would not have sworn at all the drivers around Him, everywhere He went the past couple of days.