Wellspring of solace

 Wednesday of the First Week of Advent

How long shall I have perplexity in my mind,
and grief in my heart, day after day?
how long shall my enemy triumph over me?
Psalm 13:2

The grief of this time often catches me unawares. Sometimes it creeps up on me, slowly invading the pocket of balance I think I have discovered within this world of pain. Sometimes it hits me in the gut, and my insides physically contract. Sometimes it is like a long wail that accompanies me throughout the day, always in the background as I try to answer to the mundane.

Often it takes me COVID-length moments to identify the loss. Loss of certainty, loss of proficiency, loss of understanding, loss of a path to follow that makes any sense at all. Loss of the ability to simply keep track of days, times, dates, tasks. Did I do that? Did I send that? Did I answer that? Did I miss that?

This is enemy territory, and I am not alone. Not alone in the suffering. And not alone in the solace. Everywhere I turn, in the expected as well as unanticipated places, I discover salve for my bruised soul. The gift of balm bubbles up, perpetually replenished, recalling me to sacred ground, sustaining my next step, and the next.

Image by Florian Kurz from Pixabay