When I was in high school, I had a friend who was going through a tough time. It was the early 90's and a parochial high school wasn't really a place where you could "come out" and feel accepted, perhaps even safe. I didn't know for certain that he was struggling with issues of sexual identity - though I suspected it, and felt ill-equipped to be much help.
So I sang to him. I mean, not really. It's not as if I got on a stage with a microphone in hand. But I remember one afternoon, finding him staring blankly at a row of books in the library. And I walked up behind him and whispered, "Everything's alright, yes everything's fine. And I want you to sleep well tonight. Let the world go without you tonight. Close your eyes, close your eyes, and forget all about it tonight." (from Jesus Christ Superstar.)
I'm reminded of this because again I have a friend who's going through a difficult time and I feel ill-equipped to help. And I'm reminded of loved ones who were unable to cope with the harsh realities of our every day lives.
You see, Chris is a political junkie who voices his opinions about the state of the economy, health care, poverty. I suppose I'm a more silent observer, but it means I have no less a visceral response to the classicism, racism, sexism and injustice that I see around me. And quite frankly, I feel helpless.
Yet, as I put my hand on my growing belly - waiting to feel the slightest movement, I am reminded of what beauty exists within the chaos. This child inside me is like that flower that pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete. She's saying, "I'm here, I'm lovely, and I'm worth it." And as I wait for her arrival - still so many months away - I can already hear her whisper, "Everything's alright, yes everything's fine."