“While from behind, a voice shall sound in your ears:
’ This is the way; walk in it.’” Isaiah 30:20-21
Human beings need hope. We can get through so many difficulties with just the tiniest shred of hope. But there are times in our lives when it seems even the hope is gone. The blackness and numbness can overwhelm our days and we can feel completely isolated in our suffering, not knowing what the next step is.
For us and for the people of Israel, Isaiah wrote this message of hope. It was a message of encouragement and trust, of love and expectation. God will give us what we need. For an ancient people their needs were water and grass for pasturing sheep, rain for the crops and the Lord binding up the wounds of his people. For us it might be peace of mind, acceptance of a situation or the ability to see beyond our own great pain. And always, we are promised that God will be there to bind up our wounds because we are God’s beloved people.
I am always waiting for God to be as explicit as Isaiah promises: “This is the way; walk in it.” Instead I don’t know where I am going and I fumble around in fear, searching the horizon for the end point that will be my destination. Which direction? How far? There is no one to tell me and sometimes I get frantic. It is only when I finally give up the struggle and really turn with my whole heart to God, that I begin to understand.
The writer Anne Lamott writes about a woman who, when she prays for guidance, imagines a circle of light a few steps ahead of her. As she prays, she feels moved to step forward into that light, and stays there. Then she senses the next right step - perhaps two feet off to the side. More prayer, more small steps into uneven circles of light, never knowing where she is going. At the end, Lamott writes, she can turn around and look back at the wobbly path behind her and realize she has been led to exactly where she is supposed to be.
In today’s gospel, Jesus says to his disciples, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” We are being called in the midst of our own darkness and uncertainty to labor beside Jesus in helping others. It is healing for our own darkness and at the end of the day, we still have Isaiah’s great promise: God will be there to bind up our wounds and to hold us close.
Maureen McCann Waldron
The most important part of my life is my family – Jim my husband of 47 years and our two children. Our daughter Katy, a banker here in Omaha, and her husband John, have three wonderful children: Charlotte, Daniel and Elizabeth Grace. Our son Jack and his wife, Ellie, have added to our joy with their sons, Peter and Joseph.
I think family life is an incredible way to find God, even in (or maybe I should say, especially in) the most frustrating or mundane moments.
I am a native of the East Coast after graduating in 1971 from Archbishop John Carroll High School in suburban Philadelphia. I graduated from Creighton University in 1975 with a degree in Journalism and spent most of the next 20 years in corporate public relations in Omaha. I returned to Creighton in the 1990s and completed a master’s degree in Christian Spirituality in 1998.
As our children were growing up, my favorite times were always family dinners at home when the four of us would talk about our days. But now that our kids are gone from home, my husband and I have rediscovered how nice it is to have a quiet dinner together. I also have a special place in my heart for family vacations when the kids were little and four of us were away from home together. It’s a joy to be with my growing family.
Writing a Daily Reflection is always a graced moment, because only with God’s help could I ever write one. I know my own life is hectic, disjointed and imperfect and I know most of us have lives like that. I usually write from that point of view and I always seem to find some sentence, some word in the readings that speaks right to me, in all of my imperfection. I hope that whatever I write is in some way supportive of others.
It’s an incredibly humbling experience to hear from someone who was touched by something I wrote. Whether the note is from someone across campus or across the world, it makes me realize how connected we are all in our longing to grow closer to God.
