holding lessons
“Don’t let me walk away from your commands.” Psalm 119:10
It is not easy to follow God, to lean constantly on His presence. But then, life isn’t easy. People of a certain age who have walked long with God can’t quite imagine living any other way. They might make it sound easy, but it’s not.
To stay faithful, we need a lot of help. There is temptation everywhere we turn. Every time I open my mouth I am tempted to gossip, to criticize, to complain or to crow, to make my opinion the most important in the room, to speak in declarative sentences. Every time I let my eye wander over the internet, the TV or even on the street where I live, I am tempted by ideas and images that offer fleeting comfort or pleasure, but no real lasting meaning or peace. Diversion isn’t bad, but the lure of it is powerful; and a life of diversion can feel hollow and vain.
However, to say with the psalmist, “I keep thinking about your teachings, Lord,” takes help from on high. It is grace from first to last. First God draws me, and then He holds me. It is leaning on the everlasting arms and trusting that God has me in his grip.
Two weeks ago, my friend’s father died. He had stopped the dialysis that had been offering him only “an endless cycle of reviving and dying each day,” as my friend expressed it. He entered hospice care, and as his grandson carried him to his hospital bed, a family member took a photo of this pieta moment.
What is a pieta moment? It is a moment reflective of Michelangelo’s depiction of Mary holding the broken body of her son Jesus Christ after his crucifixion. It is any moment when one person holds the broken body or soul of another. It reflects an awareness that God ultimately holds us all.
Yes, each of us is being held constantly, whether we acknowledge it or not. We are being held by dialysis or by family. Sometimes we were held faithfully in prayer by parents or grandparents who never told us of their prayers. We are held by our friends, and we hold them. But the strong arms of God are there in all our holdings, especially when we’re spent, broken, at the end of ourselves.
Karen Mains wrote, “I find pietas in film, popular literature, in fine art, in real life. And from each I am learning holding lessons.”
Love, Liz
photo used by permission of the family
