“There is pain in this world that you can't be cheered out of. You don't need solutions. You don't need to move on from your grief. You need someone to see your grief, to acknowledge it… Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.”
—Megan Devine, It's OK That You're Not OK
Not long ago, I reached a turning point in a major writing project to which I’d given my heart and soul—a memoir about the stillbirth of my first child. I stumbled across a photo of the obstetrician who had delivered our baby. Stunned and triggered by the long-buried memory, I couldn’t write. After months of agonizing writer’s block, I set the manuscript aside and tried to accept that it was over.
Easter was approaching, and I caught myself thinking about the stories I’d grown up with: Good Friday, the day Jesus was crucified. Sunday, with its empty tomb, and three startled women who had come to ritually anoint the body.
But what about Saturday? I imagined what that day was like for the women, who were required by Jewish law to wait until the Sabbath passed before proceeding with their sorrowful task. I imagined what it must have been like to see their dream of a better world die along with their beloved teacher.
When life deals a hard blow—a death or diagnosis, a loss of job or home—it rocks our world and changes everything. After the shattering, all that remains is another ordinary day. We rise, wash, and put the kettle on. We sit down to a manuscript that’s a holy mess.
In the bleak season that followed the loss of my daughter Jennifer, I didn’t know if I’d have another child. Even on days when I wished I could stay under the covers—or not wake up at all—I’d drag myself out of bed. I’d choose a small task to accomplish or obligation to meet, and I’d muster the energy to do it. I kept on that way until something shifted, and hope and purpose returned.
When surrounded by our dashed hopes, we might still be blessed with something we never expected—the grace to carry on. The ordinary day that dawns between desolation and the rebirth of hope is where we find our deepest faith, strongest reserves, and simple gratitude for our lives and the living.
Prayer
Spirit of the ordinary day, bless and guide us with your grace. Set before us the next task we are bound and privileged to do. As we meet the challenges of our daily lives, may we be reminded of our fragile humanity, our obligations to each other, and our oneness with the earth that keeps turning.