Take my hand

There’s an old story of a child walking in a forest, surrounded by sun-dappled oak trees. He climbs through the brambles and plays in the fallen leaves, mesmerized by spiderwebs, and mossy rocks, until the moment he realizes he’s completely lost. He tries to find his way out, but each path seems to lead him deeper into the forest. As the sun begins to sink, he grows increasingly afraid, wondering if he’ll ever make it home. But just then, he sees another child approaching in the distance.
He excitedly cries out to her, “I’m so relieved to see you. I’m lost. Can you point me to the way out of here?”
“I wish I could,” she says. “I’m lost too. But take my hand—we’ll find our way through this forest together.”
(Attributed to the early nineteenth-century Rabbi Hayyim Halberstam of Zans)

We all know the feeling. Whether we call it lost, or untethered. We know we feel disconnected, whether triggered by the weight of disheartenment with life, or circumstances unfriendly, or grief all-encompassing.
It is real.
And it is easy to focus only there, on the lost part. Forgetting that we are on this journey together.
It is why every Sabbath Moment embraces Ram Dass’ reminder, “We’re all just walking each other home.”
And I’m grateful for those in my life who have said, “Take my hand, we’ll find our way together.”

I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said, “There’s nothing that I can do for you that you can’t do for yourself.”
He said, “Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that that would help.”
So, I sat with him a while then I asked him how he felt.
He said, “I think I’m cured.”
(Thank you Conor Oberst)

So. Let us begin here. It is paradigm shift time. (We all carry with us paradigm eyeglasses, that shape the way we view, and frame life, and the world around us. Paradigm shift is the invitation to change those glasses.)
To change…
From seeing the world as competition, to embracing a world where community and camaraderie are real.
From seeing only scarcity, to embracing the gift of sufficiency.
From seeing only the requirement of a fix, to embracing the healing power of presence.

Of course, we wonder if we have what it takes. As if hand holding, and presence, is a gift given only to the special anointed few.
But what if…
It reminds me of Irvin Yalom’s story about a friend’s final days in her horrible fight with cancer, and the news that her surgeon informed her, “he had nothing more to offer.”
“What is wrong with doctors?” she said. “Why don’t they understand the importance of sheer presence? Why can’t they realize that the very moment they have nothing else to offer is the moment they are most needed?”
Presence does not distinguish.
Or judge.
Presence just is.
Meaning that presence makes space. For healing, and restoration, and grounding, and recovery.
And I do know this: presence is surely not easy in a world where we have to be “on.”
Or in a world that worships at the altar of the superlative.
Or in a world where ego wins.
Or in a world where we label and judge—based on race, or status in our culture and world.
Presence changes the way we define wealth. Now, we honor relationship, above gold and silver.
So. It’s about where we choose to invest. And give of ourselves.

Sometimes we need stories more than food… and this is one of my favorite go-to stories.
A little boy was having nightmares. The kind that require a momma’s reassurance. (Dads, from my own experience, are typically not wired for nightmare duty.) So, to his momma’s room the boy went, “Momma, momma, I’m having nightmares.”
“It’s okay honey,” she told him, “here’s what I want you to do. Go back to your room, kneel down by your bed, pray to Jesus and he’ll fix it.”
Back to his room, the boy knelt by his bed, prayed to Jesus, hopped back in bed, and… more nightmares. All mommas know this story. Back and forth to momma’s room, throughout the night.
On the sixth visit, “Momma, I know, I know, I’m going to go back to my room. I’m going to kneel down by my bed and pray to Jesus and he’ll fix it. But before I do that, can I just lay in bed with you and have you hold me?”
“Sure honey, why?”
“Because sometimes I need Jesus with skin on it.”
To that I say, Amen.
Spiritual rewiring—presence—enables us to see one another, with skin on it. As we train our hearts to see that we are all bound up in on another.
Rabbi Sharon Brous’ reminder, “That very human longing for connection—in our most intimate relationships, in community, with strangers, perhaps with God—is what I call the amen effect. It is a spiritual strategy, a sacred call to the faithful and the cynical, the believe and the atheist, perhaps especially to those alienated by religious certainties, but still yearning to find meaning in moments both sacred and mundane.”

Here’s the deal: The little boy knew the secret. Life is to be found in the embrace. In the presence of the other. In the touch, we can be present. In the touch, we honor the dignity in every human being. As our southern kin might say, “That’ll preach.” Yes… that’ll preach regardless of your faith or creed. That’ll preach even if you are not a member of any particular faith group. That’ll preach even if you don’t believe.
Because in the touch, we can be present.
In the touch, we create heart space.
In the touch, we’re in the mending business.
I write Sabbath Moment, because some weeks I need a hug. Not answers. A hug. And I know I am reluctant to ask. And I see so many people in our world who are famished in their spirit, undone by life’s calamities. They need to be seen and held.
And my friends, I am so grateful for every one of you. And so grateful for the hands you hold, and the hugs you give. It makes a difference.

We’re on September’s doorstep. The leaves are starting to turn here, on some of our deciduous trees. A reminder that it is about to be football season. And a shoutout to any of you who are cheering a team on. And from a Michigan boy, a shoutout to my friends near Ohio State, a football game heritage that began in 1897.
And we’re in the process of confirming a schedule for speaking events in 2027. If I can be of any help or benefit to your parish, church, school, company, or organization, please reach out to tdh@terryhershey.com.

Quote for our week…
“One reason we don’t have peace is that we have forgotten that we belong to one another.” Mother Teresa​​​​​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​Please invite a friend to join us with Sabbath Moment.
And join us for Sabbath Moment Daily Dose (Tuesday through Friday). Go to the Sign up, and choose Daily under The dropdown menu. 

​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​I am so very grateful that you are a part of Sabbath Moment. And grateful for the support that makes it possible. Please, pass Sabbath Moment on to friends. And invite them to join us. My email address tdh@terryhershey.com​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

BULLETIN BOARD

Today’s Photo Credit: Blackberry cobbler season still going strong here in western Washington. Or just a hand-full off the vine. This is on my morning walk just after a good rain shower, with some berries still ready to ripen next week… And thank you to all, I love your photos

POEMS AND PRAYER

Dear God,
We give thanks for places of simplicity and peace;
let us find such a place within ourselves.
We give thanks for places of refuge and beauty;
let us find such a place within ourselves.
We give thanks for places of nature’s truth and freedom,
of joy, inspiration and renewal,
places where all creatures may find acceptance and belonging.
Let us search for these places;
in the world, in ourselves and in others.
Let us restore them.
Let us strengthen and protect them and let us create them.
May we mend this outer world according
​​​​​​​to the truth of our inner life
and may our souls be shaped and nourished
by nature’s eternal wisdom.
Amen.
Michael Leunig   
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Music for the Soul…
New–
Walking Each Other Home — Tonja Rose. 
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