Featured,  Personal

Blessed are the vulnerable

Today, I am struck by how fragile it all is. Our bodies. Our minds. Our hopes. Our dreams. Our fears. Our homes. Our cities. Our countries. Our planet. Our entire lives.

I think of

the homesickness of Zimbabweans and the dawn of their tentative new hope

I think of

the ones whose bodies have failed them, but whose spirits burn bright

I think of

the brave ones who’ve decided to live their truth, no matter what resistance they may face

the cheerful ones for whom every moment is a sacrament, a new opportunity to deepen their joy. In spite of everything. Because of everything.

the parents (and those to-be) whose hearts are in a continual flux of break-and-expand

the dedicated who practice their craft while others play

the ones who wear their hearts on their sleeves and speak their dreams aloud

I think of those who have been abandoned

and those who have given life a second chance

I think of the invisible ones whose long hard hours of work benefit us all – the street cleaners, the farmers and the labourers who work by their sides, the cogs in the production lines who assemble our phones and stitch our clothes

I think of Yoshi, the turtle, who after 20 years in (very loving) captivity will soon be set free to

roam the oceans


lay eggs on her native shores

be a wild once more

I think of our pets who have no choice but to trust

I think of those who have shattered into a million pieces so many times, yet never cease to love.

I think of Christ’s sermon on the mount and just how powerfully counterintuitive his beatitudes were back then and still are now.

Blessed are the meek, the merciful, the mourners. Blessed are the poor in spirit, the pure of heart, the peacemakers. Blessed are the ones who seek and speak the truth.

And if one could summarise it all in a single word:

Blessed are the vulnerable.

For they are the ones who teach the rest of us what it truly means to live.


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