Honest about the Darkness; Perceptive of the Light
Last Advent, I prayed through a lovely retreat offered online by Jan Richardson for Women’s Christmas, titled “The Path We Make By Dreaming”. It was the first time I came to know of Jan’s work, and would highly recommend it (you can access her website here).
One of her paintings in this retreat was particularly significant for me. The title was what struck me first: “honest about the darkness, perceptive of the light”.
I first saw this a day after trying to counsel someone I care very much about over the phone. As it became clear that what she was hoping was not easy to achieve and the path ahead was uncertain and full of obstacles, she got more and more discouraged. Even on the phone I could feel her slowly slipping away even as I was trying my best to console and give hope. Knowing that she had a tendency towards depression, I was very anxious even after I had put down the phone, and kept wondering what else I could have said or done that could have helped.
Coming across the painting the next day in my prayer consoled me. It helped me to realise that what we are called to do for others when we accompany them in difficult times is just as its title said: be honest about the darkness but also perceptive of the light. That is all that is within our power to do – how they react to it is their responsibility.
The society of religious sisters I belong to is called the Faithful Companions of Jesus. As you may have guessed, “companionship” is a big part of our spirituality and ministry. Our name recalls for us the women disciples of Jesus who followed him to the foot of the cross when he was tortured and executed by the Romans, even when the situation seemed hopeless and others of his band had fled. Like those women, we strive to stand at the foot of the contemporary crosses of our world today, accompanying those in need.
There was little that the women could do at the foot of the cross except to be there. And it often strikes me how little we can do too when we are faced with the pain of others. “Impact measurement” was the buzzword in social enterprise circles when I was still working in that field. But not everything can be measured in numbers. In the years since then I’ve learnt that simply being a compassion presence counts for a lot when someone is in pain. And it is often much harder actually to offer compassionate presence than the kind of technical help that can be translated into numbers. For in being present to another, we are forced to encounter both the other’s vulnerability and our own helplessness.
It is something we all can do only with prayer and grace, in the expectant faith that God goes before and with us.
May we have courage for the encounter, and let hope flow again in our parched spaces.
Food for thought:
What is my experience of darkness and hope in my life at present?
How am I invited to be a “compassionate presence” – to myself, to others, in the world?
One of her paintings in this retreat was particularly significant for me. The title was what struck me first: “honest about the darkness, perceptive of the light”.
© Jan Richardson
I first saw this a day after trying to counsel someone I care very much about over the phone. As it became clear that what she was hoping was not easy to achieve and the path ahead was uncertain and full of obstacles, she got more and more discouraged. Even on the phone I could feel her slowly slipping away even as I was trying my best to console and give hope. Knowing that she had a tendency towards depression, I was very anxious even after I had put down the phone, and kept wondering what else I could have said or done that could have helped.
Coming across the painting the next day in my prayer consoled me. It helped me to realise that what we are called to do for others when we accompany them in difficult times is just as its title said: be honest about the darkness but also perceptive of the light. That is all that is within our power to do – how they react to it is their responsibility.
The society of religious sisters I belong to is called the Faithful Companions of Jesus. As you may have guessed, “companionship” is a big part of our spirituality and ministry. Our name recalls for us the women disciples of Jesus who followed him to the foot of the cross when he was tortured and executed by the Romans, even when the situation seemed hopeless and others of his band had fled. Like those women, we strive to stand at the foot of the contemporary crosses of our world today, accompanying those in need.
There was little that the women could do at the foot of the cross except to be there. And it often strikes me how little we can do too when we are faced with the pain of others. “Impact measurement” was the buzzword in social enterprise circles when I was still working in that field. But not everything can be measured in numbers. In the years since then I’ve learnt that simply being a compassion presence counts for a lot when someone is in pain. And it is often much harder actually to offer compassionate presence than the kind of technical help that can be translated into numbers. For in being present to another, we are forced to encounter both the other’s vulnerability and our own helplessness.
It is something we all can do only with prayer and grace, in the expectant faith that God goes before and with us.
May we have courage for the encounter, and let hope flow again in our parched spaces.
Food for thought:
What is my experience of darkness and hope in my life at present?
How am I invited to be a “compassionate presence” – to myself, to others, in the world?
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