Into this world,
this demented inn,
in which there is absolutely no room for him at all,
Christ has come uninvited.
in which there is absolutely no room for him at all,
Christ has come uninvited.
But because he cannot be at home in it,
because he is out of place in it,
and yet he must be in it,
his place is with those others for whom there is no room.
because he is out of place in it,
and yet he must be in it,
his place is with those others for whom there is no room.
His place is with those who do not belong,
who are rejected by power because they are regarded as weak,
those who are discredited,
who are denied the status of persons,
tortured,
excommunicated.
With those for whom there is no room,
Christ is present in this world.
Thomas Merton, from Raids on the Unspeakable
When I am slap bang alone in the middle of an out of focus place, eyes dimmed by physical, mental and emotional pain, and by blinkers I can’t even begin to name that day, I have to remind myself to practice self-compassion. There are days where it just is not possible to refocus, no matter how much I struggle to bend my will against myself.
Reminding myself that others have days like this too is of little comfort to me, until I remind myself that I would be showing them a deal of compassion I am not allowing myself.
I recently stumbled again across the following words from Henri Nouwen from Gracias, and feel they speak directly to this part of me who is so impatient with my own weakness:
A part of us clings to our aloneness and does not allow God to touch us where we are most in pain. Often we hide...precisely those places in ourselves where we feel guilty, ashamed, confused, and lost. Thus we do not give (God) a chance to be with us where we feel most alone.
Christmas is the renewed invitation not to be afraid and to let (the one) whose love is greater than our own hearts and minds can comprehend be our companion.
There is a brokenness
out of which comes the unbroken,
a shatteredness
out of which blooms the unshatterable.
out of which comes the unbroken,
a shatteredness
out of which blooms the unshatterable.
There is a sorrow
beyond all grief which leads to joy
and a fragility
out of whose depths emerges strength.
beyond all grief which leads to joy
and a fragility
out of whose depths emerges strength.
There is a hollow space
too vast for words
through which we pass with each loss,
out of whose darkness
we are sanctioned into being.
too vast for words
through which we pass with each loss,
out of whose darkness
we are sanctioned into being.
There is a cry deeper than all sound
whose serrated edges cut the heart
as we break open to the place inside
which is unbreakable and whole,
while learning to sing.
whose serrated edges cut the heart
as we break open to the place inside
which is unbreakable and whole,
while learning to sing.
‘The Unbroken’
Rashani Rea
a cry deeper than all sound. Canon 7D. f2.8. 1/2000. ISO 100.
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