Christ, My Refuge in Ten Thousand Places

I recently had to say goodbye to a beloved family member. The loss was sudden and unexpected, and my family and I were left reeling in the wake of it. I had already been struggling with the challenges of life and ministry and the stories I so often hear. Far from my family, and believing the lie of isolation and aloneness, I crumbled in my grief.

In his poem “As Kingfishers Catch Fire”, Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, “Christ plays in ten thousand places.” Over the past few weeks, amid grief and overwhelm, Christ has been my refuge and strength. I have found his comfort in ten thousand places. Often where I least expect to find it.

The people groups I work with have significantly lower life expectancy than the rest of the population. In the two years that I have been here, I have seen far more loss than I could have anticipated. And I have felt the immense privilege of being invited into another’s grief. I have entered into cultural practices new to me, I have held babies and wrangled kids so adults can weep, I have sat through the watches of the night in the cry house. I have borne witness, and I have prayed, in the poignant mix and messiness of the coming together of life and death. Now these people—colleagues and clients—have become friends and have made space for me. They have picked up the slack at work, brought meals, and done dishes. They have held me together while I’ve fallen apart. Right now, few of them know the Lord. But oh, how I have experienced his tender care in their care for me!

One of the neighborhood cats, a little gray thing who greets me each morning as I leave and each evening as I return, has refused to leave my side. As grief and shock turned to panic attacks, she lay on my chest and her gentle, rhythmic purrs helped me to calm down. Helped me breathe. In the persistent and unassuming presence of a street cat, I find the gentle comfort and closeness of the Lord.

It is meant to be the dry season here, but we’ve had weeks of endless rain and, while the gray weather matches my mood, it has also been a saving grace. Outdoor commitments and activities have been rescheduled and replaced by cozy days curled up with tea and tissues and the words of those who have walked by faith ahead of me. In their prayers and their faith and their realness, I remember Christ who conquers death and the hope eternal found in him.

Shall I go on? I could tell you about the songs we sang at the funeral. Hymns sung through generations and a chorus surely continued and perfected in heaven. Or about the testament of a life well lived for the Lord and a goodbye that was a declaration of his goodness and a rejoicing at an eternity in his presence now fully grasped. Or, I might tell you about the friend who traveled with me and the willingness to put aside work and plans and book flights at short notice so that I would not be alone. Or about hugs from my little nieces and the feel of their arms around my neck and sticky toddler kisses on my cheeks.

Christ has been my refuge in ten thousand places, showing me again and again his tender care. He meets me where I am, as I am, and breathes life and comfort into my crumbled state. In this season, and always, he holds me.

In what places are you finding Jesus in this season?