During the last snow melt, it seemed like everywhere I walked in my yard, something was dripping! And because of the sad encounters I’ve had as a chaplain recently, all I could think was, “Heaven weeps.”
Heaven weeps when a family argues over “what Daddy wants” for end-of-life care.
Heaven weeps when a mother finds out her child will not survive but for a few moments after birth.
Heaven weeps when heart-felt cries for a cure, for healing, for a “clean” scan for cancer end in an early death.
Heaven weeps when a car accident results in a traumatic brain injury.
Heaven weeps when a person is gunned down in the street.
Heaven weeps when first responders step back from a patient, their CPR efforts unsuccessful, as tears and sweat pour down the medics’ faces.
Heaven weeps when a family finds out there was been physical or sexual abuse of one of their children.
Heaven weeps when a young LGBTQ adult is beaten and the patient will only say, “I fell”. No amount of reassurance or care will help them name their attackers.
And Heaven weeps when the Church turns a blind, polite eye to the homeless, the hungry, the abused, the broken and the lonely and goes about other tasks of importance.
I am NOT condemning or judging anyone here, because I have gotten caught up in the mundane tasks I usually do, week in, week out:
working, commuting, texting, hanging with friends, shopping, groceries, laundry, cooking, cleaning, playing games on Facebook…
These are distractions that divert my attention from the bigger picture of worry and pain around me. I’m learning to remember. To listen. To care. To respond. To be an example of God’s love. To let my actions be seen in the path of peace-making.
But mostly, I am remembering that I am part of the holy response of heaven…
when Heaven weeps…