All is Well: Belum, Not Quite Yet?

I am afraid of nearly everything:
of darkness, hunger, war, children mutilated.
But most of all, I am afraid of what I might become:
reconciled to injustice,
resigned to fear and despair,
lulled into a life of apathy.

Unchain my hope,
make me strong.
Stretch me towards the impossible,
that I may work for what ought to be:
the hungry fed,
the enslaved free,
the suffering comforted,
the peace accomplished.

So may it be. Amen.

Words by that famous author “Anonymous”. It goes by the title “A Prayer for Hope.”

A prayer not asking, not petitioning for change to be done for us in some future dream like state, but a prayer asking for the person praying to change. If there is one thing I have learnt through prayer, and I pray a lot. is that prayer doesn’t necessarily change things, prayer changes people and people change things. Prayer is not an abdication of responsibility but an acceptance of responsibility in this life, right now. I know that prayer helps to plant those seeds of Hope deep within me to create within me the sense that all is well, not perfect, but well…You might find this hard to believe, but I do believe that all is well…

Theae last few weeks, as part of our annual Lent Breakfast series, the Churches Together in Urmston have been exploring the theme “Hope Now”, not some dreamed of Hope in the future but “Hope, right here, right now”. It’s been a fascinating few weeks. I took my turn to lead and enjoyed sharing in a fruitful conversation. It was wonderful to hear the different versions of people you would find everywhere in the world, the pessimists and the optimist, the cynics and the idealists, the ones who view humanity as basically fallen, but capable of ok things and those who see humanity as basically good, but who fall short from time to time and of course those who see life as suffering with occasional glimpses of heaven and those who see life as a blessing, a gift, in which suffering occurs. How do you see these things? It matters you know, it really does.

Now Hope, certainly for the future, is an easily criticised concept as it sounds like an abdication of responsibility. Hope for me though is not about that at all. Hope, as I experience it, is a way of being. We live in Hope, I would say that we live through and by hope or we don’t. It is not the same as optimism and it is not living in the expectation of something perfect beyond this life, or at least it isn’t for me. It’s actually a quality of our broken and vulnerable hearts. Hope is something that we give birth to, a quality we nurture and allow to grow through our vulnerable human being.

As Vaclav Havel wrote:

“Hope is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense,
regardless of how it turns out.”

So often, from the most grotesque ruins of life, the most beautiful things have grown. I have been thinking of this a lot, as I have observed hope in action and cries of never again come from thousands of young people across the Atlantic following another dreadful school mass killing. Now the cynics have cried there is no point, we’ve tried this before the gun lobby will always win out, but the young people have said “no”! “We can change things”! And they have seemingly set something in motion. It has inspired me I can assure you. I’ve been deeply touched as I have bared witness to this in recent weeks.

It brought to mind the following little gem of wisdom I shared at last week’s Lent Breakfast. It is taken from “Dwellings. A Spiritual History of the Living World” by Linda Hogan,

"Seed. There are so many beginnings. In Japan, I recall, there were wildflowers that grew in the far, cool region of mountains. The bricks of Hiroshima, down below, were formed of clay from these mountains, and so the walls of houses and shops held the dormant trumpet flower seeds. But after one group of humans killed another with the explosive power of life’s smallest elements split wide apart, the mountain flowers began to grow. Out of destruction and bomb heat and the falling of walls, the seeds opened up and grew. What a horrible beauty, the world going its own way, growing without us. But perhaps this, too, speaks of survival, of hope beyond our time."

Yes there may be Hope beyond our time, but the seed must be planted now. The Hope has to be there growing in our hearts and souls or we won’t plant those seeds. It does not mean there is not horror and destruction in our lives now, but nor does that horror in the present moment stop us seeing that there is goodness in our time and place.

We need to live in and through hope, we need to be hope, we need to say yes to life. Just because there are problems and suffering in life it does not mean we should turn away from life and lose all hope, make despair the orientation of our heart. What kills us is cynicism, giving up on the possibility of what we can make things in life.

This brings to life a quotation from Stephen Colbert a rather wonderful late night American television host, who suffers great despair at the state of his country at times, but lives in and through Hope, it is an orientation of his heart and spirit. He said:

“Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don't learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say "no". But saying "yes" begins things. Saying "yes" is how things grow. Saying "yes" leads to knowledge. "Yes" is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say "yes".”

So I say yes to life, to possibility, to the Hope in my heart. That Hope though is now, that hope is present, not some other place somewhere over the rainbow. So I keep on planting seeds, despite those who tell me there is no point. For hope is, as Elizabeth Barrette says in “Origami Emotion”

“Origami Emotion” by Elizabeth Barrette

Hope is
Folding paper cranes
Even when your hands get cramped
And your eyes tired,
Working past blisters and paper cuts,
Simply because something in you
Insists on
Opening its wings.

Life is not perfect, there is suffering in all parts of life, but it is not life itself. We do not live in a state of despair, well at least not yet.

This brings to mind a winderful little piece of wisdom titled "Belum" by Robeert Fulghum

“Belum” by Robert Fulghum

"Americans, it is observed, prefer definite answers. Let your yea be yea and your nay be nay. Yes or no. No grays, please.

In Indonesia, there is a word in common use that nicely wires around the need for black and white. Belum is the word and it means ‘not quite yet.’ A lovely word implying continuing possibility. “Do you speak English?”

“Belum.” Not quite yet. “Do you have any children?” “Belum.” Do you know the meaning of life?” “Belum.”

It is considered both impolite and cynical to say, “No!” outright. This leads to some funny moments. “Is the house on fire?” “Belum.” Not quite yet.

It’s an attitude kin to that old vaudeville joke: “Do you play the violin?” “I don’t know, I never tried.”

Perhaps. Maybe. Possibly. Not yes or no, but squarely within the realm of what might be. Soft edges are welcome in this great bus ride of human adventure.

Is this the best of all possible worlds? Belum.

Is the world coming to an end? Belum.

Will we live happily ever after? Belum.

Have we learned to live without weapons of mass destruction? Belum.

In some ways, we don’t know. We’ve never tried. Is it hopeless to think that we might someday try? Belum. Not quite yet."

I love this concept of "Belum" of  uncertainty, but a faithful uncertainty, that nothing is ever fully sealed, not yet at least. However hopeless things may feel at the present moment it does not mean that all is despair. Look around you, look into your own heart. There is love and goodness present both within you and in life. There are those around you that can bring inspiration to your being, who have the courage to say yes to life, that have hope lightening and inspiring their hearts.

All is well. Yes it doesn’t always feel like it, but it is. For an awful long time I used to say “all will be well”, don’t lose faith in life. In recent weeks I have changed my mind. Well actually my heart and soul have changed my mind. Minds are made for changing by the way. We should never, ever be ruled by our minds. I no longer believe that “all will be well”, to quote Julian of Norwich. Why you may well ask? Well because it sounds like an abdication and abandonment of this life. Such belief is of no use to me, is disrespectful as it rejects what I’m experiencing right here right now. It’s also a rejection of reality.

My truth, as I type these words right here , right now, is that all is well. Life is rich in meaning. It is not devoid of suffering and trouble, but it is well. There is love, there is goodness and it is my task, I believe, to share that with those all around me. It is the orientation of my heart and soul. It is Hope.

Living this way is not about perfection, it is not about completeness it is about planting seeds from our hearts and souls and living in the Belum, the not quite yets of life. To repeat those words of Robert Fulghum

“Is this the best of all possible worlds? Belum.

Is the world coming to an end? Belum.

Will we live happily ever after? Belum.

Have we learned to live without weapons of mass destruction? Belum.

In some ways, we don’t know. We’ve never tried. Is it hopeless to think that we might someday try? Belum. Not quite yet."

So what are you going to do? Are you going to try, give it a go, plant those seeds in your heart and souls right here right now in this new spring or be cynical and claim the wisdom of fear and say we’ve tried this before it won’t work, what’s the point? People will never change. There is no Hope. Or are you going to join with me and believe in your heart that all is well, not perfect, but well. That there is goodness in the world and goodness in my heart and that this goodness can once again grow in the world if I would just let the courage work through me and rise once again.

It’s up to us right here right now. Hope is not something we passively dream of in the future, something beyond this life. It has to be born here right now, an orientation of our heart and souls or not at all.

All is well, have the courage to allow the seeds of Hope to form in your hearts and souls, let it become the orientation of your very being. Let’s not give up on our belief in love and life, well at least not quite yet, Belum.

So Do We Reap What We Sow?

“Harvest” is a time for reaping, but I also see it as a time for reflection; “Harvest” is a time just before Autumn sets in and all around us slows down; “Harvest is a time to gather in all that has occurred in our lives; “Harvest” is a time to feast on the good and perhaps chuck out what is of no use.

We will, before we are probably aware of it, soon enter into the winter of the year. Let us hope we have gathered enough to see us through the darkness of winter; let us hope we have planted enough, and cared for what we have planted, so that our harvest will be a fulfilling one, that it will leave us fulfilled.

So how is your harvest this year? How does your garden grow?

In Paul's letter to the Galatian’s Ch 6 v 7 you hear that well known phrase “for you reap whatever you sow”.
This roughly translates as you get whatever you give off in life; that life gives back to you in proportion to what you give to it.

These words bring to my mind the story of “Echo”...

A man and his son were walking in the forest.

Suddenly the boy trips and feeling a sharp pain he screams, "Ahhhhh."

Surprised, he hears a voice coming from the mountain, "Ahhhhh"

Filled with curiosity, he screams:

"Who are you?",

but the only answer he received is:

"Who are you?"

This makes him angry, so he screams:

"You are a coward!",

and the voice answers:

"you are a coward!"



He looks at his father, asking,

"Dad, what is going on?"

"son," the man replies, "pay attention!"

Then he screams, "I admire you!"

The voice answers: "I admire you!"

The father shouts, "You are wonderful!",

and the voice answers:

"You are wonderful!"



The boy is surprised, but still can't understand what is going on.

Then the father explains,



"People call this 'ECHO',

but truly it is 'LIFE!' Life always gives you back what you give out!

Life is a mirror of your actions.

If you want more love, give more love!

If you want more kindness, give more kindness!

If you want more understanding and respect, give more understanding and respect!

If you want people to be patient and respectful to you, give patience and respect!

This rule of nature applies to every aspect of our lives."



Life always gives you back what you give out.

your life is not a coincidence, but a mirror of your doings.

I do believe that generally speaking life is echo, what we give off we often get back, “We reap what we sow,” but that this not the full story. It is important to realise and understand that we are not the only force at work in our lives. There is injustice present, at some level, in every life and that we do not always get what we deserve. That said we are not passive, what we do and what we do not do matters. We are co-creators in the dance of life. While we are not the force, we are a part of the force and we have the force running through us.

I recently came across the following words by the 19th century Transcendentalist Henry David Thorau (1817-1862)


“On fields o’er which the reaper’s hand has pass’d

Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,

My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind

And of such fineness as October airs,

There after harvest could I glean my life

A richer harvest reaping without toil,

And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will

In subtler webs than finest summer haze.

It matters what we are and what we do, we are not passive in life, but then again neither are we the only force at work. That life force is within our DNA, but we are not God and neither are we the only force at work in our lives.

Every seed we plant needs external help. We can plant the seeds and we can care for the seeds, but they do not grow merely from our effort. Each seed is dependent on many things. It needs good soil to land upon, it needs water and it needs sunlight and it needs care and attention. Most of these are things that are to some extent out of our control.

There is also something unknown and mysterious in how these seeds grow. Yes I know that we can explain the mechanics, but not fully and we cannot truly answer the how and why. There is an unknown mystery in the whole process; a mystery that does not truly offer us any guarantees. We can do everything to the letter, to the book and yet our crops can still fail. This is due to forces at work, forces beyond our control. It is always worth remembering that it rains on the righteous and the un-righteous. The weather pays no attention to our plans and designs.

My auntie Catherine, her partner Robert and her son Edward grow strawberries. Each year they hope for a good crop and every summer I have heard continual tales of woe about these strawberries that never come out as they should. Each year they question whether it is worth putting all the effort in. Each year they plan various tactics to create the perfect crop for the few weeks they are in season. Each year it seems has been a bad year due to too much rain, or not enough rain, or the wrong kind of rain at the wrong time of year. The last two years I am told have been particularly unfruitful.

Well this year they prepared like they have never done before and this year was the best crop they’ve ever had. Now was it because of all the extra special drainage Rob put in or was it just that it rained at the right time and the sun shone at the right time...who knows, not I. I’m just grateful they had a good year, although I know that the fact it was such a good year was exhausting for them all. Here’s to another good harvest next year, but one that is not too exhausting.

You see whether we have a good harvest or not is not just down to us, we do not always reap exactly what we sow, there are other forces at work. We cannot control every element of life; there are powers at work other than our own. Sometimes everything can be destroyed, can be blown away by forces way beyond ourselves. This can lead us to believe that all is lost, but this not necessarily so. We can begin again at any time. Seeds can begin to grow again, even after utter devastation. This brings to mind the words “Seed” by Linda Hogan.

From“Dwellings. A Spiritual History of the Living World” by Linda Hogan,

"Seed. There are so many beginnings. In Japan, I recall, there were wildflowers that grew in the far, cool region of mountains. The bricks of Hiroshima, down below, were formed of clay from these mountains, and so the walls of houses and shops held the dormant trumpet flower seeds. But after one group of humans killed another with the explosive power of life’s smallest elements split wide apart, the mountain flowers began to grow. Out of destruction and bomb heat and the falling of walls, the seeds opened up and grew. What a horrible beauty, the world going its own way, growing without us. But perhaps this, too, speaks of survival, of hope beyond our time."

Out of the destruction of Hiroshima these new seeds grew. Out of total and utter despair new seeds of hope grew. Isn’t that life, isn’t that our lives.

Tell me about your harvest this year? Have the seeds you planted failed to grow this year? Are you left with a bad harvest? Is this because you have not nurtured and cared for your crop as you should have or is it due to forces way beyond your control? Either way do not despair, hope springs eternal, even in the Autumn and the winter. There is always time for new beginnings. Let’s gather in the harvests of our lives and lets offer thanks and praise for all that we have been given, even if it’s a hard lesson, let’s give thanks for the lesson.

Tomorrow is another day and we can begin again in love.