But when yesterday’s enormous news broke, I thought, “What do I say tomorrow. . .?” In a shocking turn of events, President Donald Trump has fired James Comey, the Director of the FBI. Yes, the Director of the FBI who is tasked with leading an investigation of the campaign of President Donald Trump.
It feels stunning, concerning, and scary.
Another layer of the unknown has been stacked upon a host of unknowns. We have carried the weight and stress of many unknowns for a while now. What has happened? What is happening? And probably most concerning for us, what is about to happen?
In light of these questions, perhaps we can consider our personal and collective connections to the unknown itself. If the unknown could hear us, what would we want to say to it? How does it reside right now in our bodies? When does it feel out-of-sight-out-of-mind? When does it seem to be the only thing on our minds?
What connections do we associate with the unknown?
Recently, I was thinking about what Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount. “Do not worry,” he says.
That’s harder than it seems, Jesus.
It absolutely can be hard. But recently, I’ve been viewing the whole Jesus movement in a new light. During the 1st century, Jesus and his followers were all living under the intense occupation of the Roman Empire. They were acquainted with oppression and regular abuses of power. Jesus says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
It might be good, practical advice. The whole passage surrounding this statement invites us to trust and recognize God’s provision and care, but it might also illumine a particular way of practicing care in the wake of challenging times.
Stay in today.
Let today be the anchor.
This is not about escapism. Not at all. It’s about being so present that we can let the present moment be a vehicle for revealing what we need — the human connections we can engage, the emotions we need to feel, and of course, the callings that move us to action.