Fifty days, fifty sayings on God. Throughout my time this summer doing this blog, I have wanted to give more. After all, these 50 sayings are merely a window into my ministry this summer; along the way, people have asked me for more. More context on why a person said what they did, more than one saying a day, more information on what I said in response.
This, perhaps, is because we see ourselves in these sayings.
We see the faith we have fought hard to keep, the anger we feel, or the doubt we try to live with on display. They are a freeze frame of humanity; while validating, it is unnerving. It is this uncomfortable space that makes this a worthwhile project. Did you cling to the ones that were openly optimistic? Or perhaps the cries from deep in the soul asking God why rang most true for you? The power of these sayings isn’t the eloquence or accessibility of them, but in how they strike us and how it causes us to reflect back on what we might say about God when we find ourselves in a space that allows the freedom to do so.
To say it has been a privilege to get to serve in this way this summer is an understatement; I will carry the things I saw, heard, and learned with me into my ministry for years. In a hospital room, humanity suddenly becomes equal; the vulnerability and the loss of independence become the great, painful equalizer. I’ve spent hours with people who are literally homeless and those who have a million-dollar oil business, those who are dying and those who are merely injured, I have sat with families that are dysfunctional and those with whom love is a natural state of being, I have seen the deepest pain and I have seen the deepest joy.
Through the next few days, I’ll be posting some reflections on these fifty days spent in the hospital. Reflections on the experiences I had, times I got it right, times when I seriously got it wrong, and the relation between the deep joy and pain to be found in times of vulnerability and how hope can ultimately win.