The Rev. Drew Foisie, Vicar
SEPTEMBER 2021
A newsletter came across my email inbox the other day. It was one newsletter among what seem like hundreds that clutter my box everyday. Normally I would pass over it, or delete it, or consider ‘unsubscribing’ from it just to lighten the load a bit. Strangely, I did none of those things. There was some soft and gentle spirit drawing me towards it, beckoning me to open it, as if there was a special message tucked inside just for me, something God knew I needed to hear that day. When the email popped open a picture of a large circuit breaker in an unfinished wall filled my screen. The words “It’s all too much” were placed below it in big block letters. The writer began with a meandering reflection on the pains of living in an old apartment building constructed well before computers, microwave ovens, hairdryers, jumbo screen TVs, and surround sound stereo systems filled our spaces. Every time she boldly turned on the hairdryer while the stereo was playing a fuse would be blown. This would happen with such regularity that it made her think.
It made her wonder about old and overloaded things not quite able to keep up with the increasing loads stacked on them. “I think of that fuse box often these days,” she went on to say. “Because friends, I just do not think our psyches were developed to hold, feel and respond to everything coming at them right now; every tragedy, injustice, sorrow and natural disaster happening to every human across the entire planet, in real time every minute of every day.” Far from being callous, she was, rather, touching down on something really important for all of us whose hearts have been aching for years at every news story and call for change. There are just so many worthy and important things to care about right now that are being broadcast continuously from ever corner, and it’s hard to keep up. This produces what experts are now calling “compassion fatigue.” It’s that felt sense of despair when overwhelmed by all the pressing needs of the world we wish we could carry but can’t. And yet “doing nothing is hardly the answer.” We just have to consider the one thing God has given us to do. We each have a bucket of water that is ours for putting out fires, Nadia, the writer of the newsletter, suggested. It just won’t work to put a little water on all the fires, but there’s one fire that truly needs the water we have to give. We can all let that be enough. And in God’s hands it is more than enough.
As we finish a second year bearing the weight of the coronavirus pandemic there are, perhaps, more needs than ever. Both within and without. Sometimes these needs are acutely felt, as in a sense of loneliness, fear, or “compassion fatigue.” Sometimes these needs are humming at a low frequency so far below the surface they go largely unnoticed. The church can and should be a place where such things can be discussed and placed in the light of God’s grace and direction. In that Spirit a September Sunday morning adult form series will be offered to name and consider the different ways the last year and a half has been a blessing and a gift, the ways it has tested our circuit breakers, and the ways God is calling us to think and respond in new ways in a changed and changing world.
Wherever you are, and wherever you find yourself on the journey of faith at this time, may God bless you with more of his peace, grace, love, and strength to serve in the simple but powerful ways God has given you.
Yours In Christ,
Drew+
A newsletter came across my email inbox the other day. It was one newsletter among what seem like hundreds that clutter my box everyday. Normally I would pass over it, or delete it, or consider ‘unsubscribing’ from it just to lighten the load a bit. Strangely, I did none of those things. There was some soft and gentle spirit drawing me towards it, beckoning me to open it, as if there was a special message tucked inside just for me, something God knew I needed to hear that day. When the email popped open a picture of a large circuit breaker in an unfinished wall filled my screen. The words “It’s all too much” were placed below it in big block letters. The writer began with a meandering reflection on the pains of living in an old apartment building constructed well before computers, microwave ovens, hairdryers, jumbo screen TVs, and surround sound stereo systems filled our spaces. Every time she boldly turned on the hairdryer while the stereo was playing a fuse would be blown. This would happen with such regularity that it made her think.
It made her wonder about old and overloaded things not quite able to keep up with the increasing loads stacked on them. “I think of that fuse box often these days,” she went on to say. “Because friends, I just do not think our psyches were developed to hold, feel and respond to everything coming at them right now; every tragedy, injustice, sorrow and natural disaster happening to every human across the entire planet, in real time every minute of every day.” Far from being callous, she was, rather, touching down on something really important for all of us whose hearts have been aching for years at every news story and call for change. There are just so many worthy and important things to care about right now that are being broadcast continuously from ever corner, and it’s hard to keep up. This produces what experts are now calling “compassion fatigue.” It’s that felt sense of despair when overwhelmed by all the pressing needs of the world we wish we could carry but can’t. And yet “doing nothing is hardly the answer.” We just have to consider the one thing God has given us to do. We each have a bucket of water that is ours for putting out fires, Nadia, the writer of the newsletter, suggested. It just won’t work to put a little water on all the fires, but there’s one fire that truly needs the water we have to give. We can all let that be enough. And in God’s hands it is more than enough.
As we finish a second year bearing the weight of the coronavirus pandemic there are, perhaps, more needs than ever. Both within and without. Sometimes these needs are acutely felt, as in a sense of loneliness, fear, or “compassion fatigue.” Sometimes these needs are humming at a low frequency so far below the surface they go largely unnoticed. The church can and should be a place where such things can be discussed and placed in the light of God’s grace and direction. In that Spirit a September Sunday morning adult form series will be offered to name and consider the different ways the last year and a half has been a blessing and a gift, the ways it has tested our circuit breakers, and the ways God is calling us to think and respond in new ways in a changed and changing world.
Wherever you are, and wherever you find yourself on the journey of faith at this time, may God bless you with more of his peace, grace, love, and strength to serve in the simple but powerful ways God has given you.
Yours In Christ,
Drew+
* Nadia Bolz-Weber, The Corners with Nadia Bolz-Weber, (thecorners@substack.com), August 17, 2021
St Aidan's Episcopal Church
1318 SR532, Camano Island, WA 98282
PO Box 145, Stanwood, WA 98292
Office@StAidansCI.org
(360) 629-3969 ~ Like us on Facebook
Copyright © All rights reserved.
1318 SR532, Camano Island, WA 98282
PO Box 145, Stanwood, WA 98292
Office@StAidansCI.org
(360) 629-3969 ~ Like us on Facebook
Copyright © All rights reserved.