Dear church family,
I’m writing to you from the past. I’d like to pretend there’s some kind of time warp, but the fact is, on Sunday I disappeared into the black hole that is the Youth Group Mission Trip, where one rarely has time to sit down, much less write, so I knew I’d have to write this piece before departure. And as I sit here thinking about the mission trip we will by publication time be halfway through, I have some fears on my mind.
I’m not so afraid, this time, of the stress or the travel. It’s only to Monterey, so we can’t get too lost and we don’t need to pass through any TSA checkpoints. In previous mission trips we’ve had worries (and actualities) ranging from major thunderstorms to 100+ degree weather to running out of insulin; this year those particular risks don’t threaten. Perhaps we may tip over our canoes on ElkHorn Slough, but we’ll have our life vests on. No, this year my fears aren’t logistics or weather or transportation; my fears are a little deeper and harder to address.
I’m afraid, you see, that I’ll fall in love.
I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with something fragile and vulnerable, something in mortal peril — that is, I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with the the ocean and its creatures. We’re going on an ecological mission trip, and ecological work is a difficult undertaking in this age of climate change where species extinctions loom on every side. It’s more important than ever, but it runs the sharp risk of heartbreak as you stand there on the shore, throwing starfish after countless starfish back into a warming ocean. I’m afraid my heart might break open with compassion for the plight of some struggling sea creatures, and that it’ll be too painful to bear. Opening up to ecological work is like deciding to fall in love with a person who might (or might not) be terminally ill. It’s like deciding to walk into a hurricane: you wouldn’t do it on purpose.
Well, I’m going anyway (when you read this: I’m already there) and so I’ll have to pray my way around this block in my heart.
Here’s what I’m working on:
God is love
Love is of God
God created us fragile, perishable
God created the world fragile and perishable too
God loves the world
God loves fragile and perishable things
God is vulnerable
Vulnerability is part of love
This pain, then, that I feel, is God’s spirit in me
God aches for and loves the creatures in their peril
It is our holy work to care for the fragile creatures and ecosystems that God so loves It is a holy thing to love what death can touch
By the time you receive this, who knows what may have developed? The pastor hosting us may have spoken to my fears. The ocean herself may have soothed my worries. On Sunday you’ll hear us give our presentation from the trip in Celebration, and you’ll get to hear the rest of the story.
Every Blessing,
Talitha