See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the LORD of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. (Malachi 4:1-2a, NRSV)
I've been avoiding some things, sticking to careful mentions of the names of people I love, or people I worry about or find challenging, but not so many of the latter these days, for fear of the rabbit hole I might find myself down if I mention the truly challenging.
Even if they are the people who need you most.
But I've been avoiding telling you that people who are mean tire me out and make me wonder what the world is coming to, and even though in happier personal times I have assured others that on the whole people have always worried that the world they love is coming to an end, soon, I am the one carrying that feeling right now.
I'm trying to bring you prayers more articulate than "Help!"
But I hate to be one of the people praying "How long, O Lord? How long?"
I hate it.
I want to be one of the people praying, "Thank you."
Right now there are certainly things to thank you for, and I've tried to focus on them, I really have. You know that.
And even though Malachi speaks of a bad end for the arrogant and the evildoers, my prayer is not that vengeful. I really would like it to turn out well for all concerned.
But I also need to say "No, thank you," to some of the events of my life.
I hope you can understand, and can hear my "No, thank you," in the spirit in which I offer it.
(I hope you can accept a moment of silence here as part of our conversation.)
Meanwhile, today I want to thank you for people who keep reaching out to me, ever-so-kindly, and especially for L, who sent me this card, designed by a special person in her life, as a gesture of encouragement that I received thankfully.
"The power to lift up is stronger than all that holds us down." I believe that is your power. I'm depending on it. There's no dancing bird in this drawing, but I feel connected to that little turtle, somehow.
And I don't know if this counts as revering, but thanks for listening.