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I began to view this passage as a weapon to condemn me for my mental health struggles. When anxiety attacked, I would simultaneously experience world-crumbling terror and soul-crushing guilt. An anxiety attack meant I didn’t have faith. It meant I let God down.
I admit that this passage is a tough one for me. No, I have never been homeless and have never gone without food or clothes, but I do know what it is like to worry about having enough money for basic needs. I was born in the Depression.
Uri paused. Then with a note of longing that was also heavy with regret, he continued, “Maybe my generation is the lost generation. Perhaps we cannot make peace because we are too close to the conflict. Maybe we will have to wait for the next generation to see peace.
What could be more inspiring than to stand on the hillside overlooking Galilee and contemplate the words of Matthew 5-7? I was sure I would know exactly what to write about the moment I saw the place. But as beautiful as the location was, not a single bolt, not even a tiny trickle of inspiration appeared.
What do I learn about myself this season? I learn I have chores at home, responsibilities to my extended family, commitments at church, books to enjoy. And these are only the good things.
I am reminded of my recent foray in downsizing. What a task! Trying to decide what to keep and what to get rid of and knowing that I must get rid of most of it was at best an exercise in futility.