Terry Hershey
My Child
June 27, 2011

Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.  Saint-Exup�ry, The Little Prince

 

Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery:  He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life.  G.K. Chesterton

 

He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.  Oscar Wilde

 

Life is full of beauty. Notice it. Notice the bumble bee, the small child, and the smiling faces. Smell the rain, and feel the wind. Live your life to the fullest potential, and fight for your dreams.  Ashley Smith

  

 

I read a story about a sad and terrifying incident that occurred during the recent tragic war in Sarajevo.  A reporter, covering the fighting and violence in the middle of the city, watched a little girl fatally shot by a sniper.  The reporter threw down whatever he held, rushing immediately to the aid of a man who knelt on the pavement cradling the child.

 

As the man carried the child, the reporter guided them to his car, and sped off to a hospital.  

"Hurry my friend," the man urged, "my child is still alive."

A moment or two later he pleaded, "Hurry my friend, my child is still breathing."  

And a little later, "Please my friend, my child is still warm."

 

Although the reporter drove as fast as was possible, by the time they arrived at the hospital, the little girl had died. As the two men were in the lavatory, washing the blood off their hands and their clothes, the man turned to the reporter and said, "This is a terrible task for me.  I must now go tell her father that his child is dead.  He will be heartbroken."

 

The reporter stood speechless.  He looked at the grieving man and said, "I thought she was your child."

The man shook his head.  "No.  But aren't they all our children?"

 

Yes.  They are.

 

We live in a world that can be cruel and merciless.

And there are a heap plenty of people and systems to blame.  (And it is always some other people, and some other system.)

But the truth is that we wound one another.

We wound with real wars, and real bullets.

We wound with words, with hatred and resentment.

And we wound with intolerance and small-mindedness (some of it in the name of "love" and God).

 

"If we have no peace," Mother Teresa reminded us, "it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other."

 

Well, if we do belong to one other, then "they"--the "least of these" and those without voices--are indeed, our children.

Ours to care for.

Ours to listen to.

Ours to see.

 

But this story has another facet.  Any care or compassion--or cradling or listening or healing--must begin with self-care.   

 

And here's the deal: that child, cradled in the arms of that man, embodies every single one of us.  No, we've not fallen victim to a sniper's bullet.  But life has rough edges, much, much rougher for many.  This, however, is assuredly true; there has been a time in each of our lives when we needed someone to say, "Aren't they all our children?"  When we knew that someone had the interest--the magnitude and worth and belovedness--of that child (in us) foremost in mind.

 

(When I read stories about child abuse I clutch my heart--literally--and I want to go out and hurt someone. . .anyone who has done these things.  And then I read stories about children who have been wounded and who have been abused, and who have found a way to survive.  And to not only survive, but to thrive.  And to become beacons of hope.)

 

So, back to the story.  It's not just the child's life we're trying to save, but the very freedom to be a child.

Let me ask you this?   

What does it mean to embrace the gifts of this child?   

Or to embrace the gifts of the child within you?   

Can you tell me the last time you were invited--given the permission--to be vulnerable, curious, lighthearted, inquisitive, spontaneous, intuitive and playful?  To be filled with wonderment and laughter?

And if I invited you today, would you say yes? 

 

I know.  We live in a world that moves on. 

Or "grows up." 

I "googled" childlike.  The first two pages referred me to articles or sites about "childishness."  Go figure.  We still haven't moved past that?

I remember when I was young I was encouraged (maybe persuaded?) to grow up.

To be an adult.

To give up my childlike ways.

But since when did childlike become a jeopardy or a hazard?

 

Did you know that there is a simple test in order to determine when one is unable to trust someone else (or our self for that matter)?  Without trust, we feel the need to place restrictions.  We prescribe a lot of "don't do that" kind of rules.  (Like, "don't be soooo childlike.")

I suppose that we are fearful about keeping control.  Or losing it.  I'm not sure which.  I do know that in the business of the church, we excel at this.  The rules part.  And the fear part. 

 

This Sabbath Moment is dedicated to the child within us: because like it or not, our childhood stays with us forever, regardless of our age.  And I hope that we do, at times, continue to behave childlike.  (Jesus seemed to think it was a good thing--something about entering the Kingdom of Heaven and all that.)  Childlike behavior may even help one stay pure at heart, and to live life simply.  And simplicity is always a wonderful thing.  It just may be that we're not childlike enough.

 

Carl Jung called it the "Divine Child" and Emmet Fox called it the "Wonder Child." Some psychotherapists call it the "True Self" and Charles Whitfield called it the "Child Within," and someone later coined the phrase, "the Inner Child."  Whatever name you use, it refers to that part of each of us which is ultimately alive.  It is where our feelings come to life. When we experience joy, sadness, anger, fear, or affection, that child within us is coming to life.  Not in order to be measured or to impress, but to embrace and to be embraced.   


A child's world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement.  It is our misfortune that for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood.  Rachel Carson

 

Is it possible that we don't trust our own goodness?

 

(1) Versions of the Sarajevo story are quoted by both Jim Wallis and Max Lucado.

 

World Children's Day - Aren't They All Our Children Now

 

 

 

Poems and Prayers 

 

I am often accused of being childish.  I prefer to interpret that as child-like.  I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things.  I tend to exaggerate and fantasize and embellish.  I still listen to instinctual urges.  I play with leaves.  I skip down the street and run against the wind.  I never water my garden without soaking myself.  It has been after such times of joy that I have achieved my greatest creativity and produced my best work.  

Leo F. Buscaglia, Bus 9 to Paradise

 

Guard Your Heart

She takes the bird into her hands

and brings it near

to hold it in her crossed arms

her fingers tight together

as if it would slip away.

She hugs it to her

as if holding could revive it

as if she could protect it

from every kind of harm.

She looks into the distance

and all her energy

sinks into the heart, beating,

warmth to warmth, as it

it could fly again.

Andrew Rudd

 

This is my wish for you:  

Comfort on difficult days,  

smiles when sadness intrudes,  

rainbows to follow the clouds,  

laughter to kiss your lips,  

sunsets to warm your heart,  

hugs when spirits sag,  

beauty for your eyes to see,  

friendships to brighten your being,  

faith so that you can believe,  

confidence for when you doubt,  

courage to know yourself,  

patience to accept the truth,  

Love to complete your life.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Be Inspired

 

Danny Ellis. Live in Asheville's ACT; part of the opening narrative leading to Danny's first day in Artane Industrial School (orphanage) and the song 800 Voices.  

 

Bring Him Home -- from Les Miserables (Valjean is standing over Marius at the barricade)

 

Waiting for my child to come home - Patty Griffin

 

FAVORITES from Last Week:

 

Paul Simon and a night of pure sobbing joy.  During a show in Toronto on May 7, Rayna Ford, a fan from Newfoundland, called out for Simon to play "Duncan," and said something to the effect that she learned to play guitar on the song. In a moment of astonishment and disbelief, Paul Simon invited her on stage, handed her a guitar and asked her to play it.

 

Escape to the beauty, wonder and joy of nature--simpletruths.com 

 

Sarah McLachlan, Ordinary Miracle

 

Father Thomas Keating discusses the dynamic nature of God and the paradox implicit in experiencing divine oneness. With humor and wisdom, he explores the practice of contemplative prayer, and how we might begin to approach God through being present to our senses.


Notes from Terry
 

1. NEW! An E-Course with Terry. Sponsored by Spirituality and Practice, this Online Retreat and Practice Circle will run from July 11 through August 5, with email stories with suggested spiritual practices, journal prompts, creative projects, and discussion questions to help you bring a new level of attentiveness into your daily life, audio and video clips and two teleconferences.

 

2. NEW!  Opportunity for one-to-one time with Terry.  For information or to schedule an appointment, click HERE.

 

3.  If you know of a friend or colleague who would enjoy Sabbath Moment, please consider the gift of Sabbath Moment.  With your member discount, the gift of Sabbath Moment for a family member, friend or colleague is only $13.     

 

4
.  Please check out the new summer schedule for 2011.  Join me in a city near you--Terry's Schedule    

 

5.  Please pass the word. . .if you are on Facebook, invite your friends to enjoy Pause Reminders for Today (on Facebook). . .and perhaps, a weekly Sabbath Moment.

 

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