Journal of Sacred Work

[Today’s meditation was written by Cathy Self, Sr. V.P. at the Baptist Healing Trust.]

"We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love." – Mother Teresa

     I have a sense today of exhaustion that may be felt by many good people who aspire to great things – nurses, physicians, therapists, parents, teachers, caregivers all. The headlines in past days have been filled with stories of great need that seems too big to meet. In a recent conversation among fellow caregivers about what matters most, I heard words like overhelmed, discouraged, and even exhausted. These words came cascading from hearts filled with dreams and hopes for meeting vast needs both at home and across our world. The weight of love seems heavy – a social worker who simply cannot be in two places at once, a mother torn between the duty and privilege of her work and the duty and joy of her family, a therapist who hurts deeply about poor choices being made by members of her own family. In his words, author Wayne Muller notes "we are all painfully aware of how little we have to offer, given the weight and magnitude of the sorrow, injustice, or pain we are to witness and heal."

     How many nights I have lowered my weary body to rest only to hear my mind filled with thoughts of "what more could I have done today?" As Muller asks "What is enough?" The weight of love seems heavy.

     Yet, this I know. I cannot do it all, but what I am able to do, as Mother Teresa once said, I can do with great love. My greatest act today may be to listen fully and deeply to the heart and need of another caregiver. In that deep sharing, the weight of love feels light. As I write these words, I can hear the old song pop into my head – "he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother." There’s the magic of Love! What appears to be heavy, truly isn’t.

      There is a poem written by Mark Nepo that I believe captures the magic of what we can do. It is titled Accepting This and it words are shared here as one of Love’s gifts:

Yes, it is true. I confess,/I have thought great thoughts/and sung great songs – all of it/ rehersal for the majesty of being held.

The dream is awakened/when thinking I love you/and life begins/when saying I love you/and joy moves like blood when embracing others with love.

My efforts now turn/from trying to outrun suffering/to accepting love wherever/I can find it.

Stripped of causes and plans/and things to strive for,/I have discovered everything/I could need or ask for/is right here…/in flawed abundance.

We cannot eliminate hunger,/but we can feed each other./We cannot eliminate loneliness,/but we can hold each other./We cannot eliminate pain,/but we can live a life/of compassion.

Ultimately,/we are small living things/awakened in the stream,/not gods who carve out rivers.

Like human fish,/we are asked to experience/meaning in the life that moves/through the gill of our heart.

There is nothing to do/and nowhere to go./Accepting this,/we can do everything/and go anywhere.

 I cannot meet all needs, but today, when I encounter you, I hope you can hear my words – I love you.