When You Wonder if the Divine is Even There

They told me in their diplomatic way that a shift was coming.
They told me they needed more support to support him.
They told me a quieter classroom would lessen the angst.
They told me the meetings would include county leadership.
They told me to be honest, to advocate, to ask hard questions.
I listened, engaged, believed.

They didn’t tell me the meetings would quicken the beat of my heart.
That my palms would sweat as the winter wind howled outside.
That my raised voice would rattle the proverbial cage.
That my words would sharpen, demanding directness over diplomacy.
That my thoughts would wander to more specialized programs in other places.
That my deep frustration with the whole damn system would bleed through the worn layers of my tough skin.

I didn’t expect the meeting to expose my righteous anger
with the disconnect between county leadership and schools
with the weak communication
with the vague answers to pointed questions
with the politicking for litigation prevention.

I didn’t expect to feel so utterly alone in a sea of faces
To be filled with sorrow, empty of hope
To doubt (again) the kindness of God toward my son, our family.

Where is the Divine in these hours?
Does the Spirit of God hover in these spaces?

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
If I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

Even there.
Even there.
Even there.

Even there, beloved, in the heavy meetings
in the quieter classroom
in your relentless requests for help
in your countless emails and phone calls
on your knees
in your tears and rage
in your broken heart

in the broken systems
where relief appears just beyond your reach
where lasting change looks like a lost cause.

Even there.
Even there.

The hand of God guiding and holding and molding.
The heart of God grieving and caring and listening.
The Spirit of God moving
in the faithful presence of those who know you
in the tireless efforts of a committed few
in the fervent prayers of your loved ones

in the determined cheers of the saints before you
in the mustard seed held in your weary hands
and in the soul of your child worthy
to be seen
to be heard
to belong.

When the stubborn mountains refuse to be lifted and tossed,
when they appear to move for others but not for you,
may your Thomas heart trust the Divine is

Even there.

Featured image by Lucas Myers at Unsplash