Blessed

I was re-reading The Sermon On The Mount today.

And I just started writing these based on some interactions I’ve had this week.

Blessed are the weary and bedraggled. The too busy to keep up. The ones who can’t remember what they’re supposed to be doing right now because they’re so worried about how they’re going to make tomorrow work. The ones whose temples ache and eyes are strained. The ones who are always on the way to the next thing and wishing they could just cherish the last one.

Blessed are the doubting and unbelieving. The ones who feel like promises were broken. The ones who can’t make it all add up. The ones who can’t buy into the snake oil sold to them. The ones who just want someone to reassure them without a bunch of mumbo jumbo.

Blessed are the striving and the trying. The ones who are doing their best. The ones who keep showing up despite it all. The ones who pulled themselves out of bed today. The ones who keep following up. The ones who are doing all they can.

Blessed are the quietly lonely. The ones who miss who they used to know. The ones who can’t quite find their people no matter how hard they look. The ones who lost their people long ago. The ones who feel an emptiness sometimes.

Blessed are the wounded and scarred. The ones who carry old stories with them whether they want to or not. The ones who might still be bleeding. The ones who will never be the same. The ones who didn’t ask for the hard moments that have shaped who they are.

Blessed are the ones who spread their mothering wings as wide as possible. The ones who try to cover, shelter, protect, and comfort. The ones who silently worry about people who may not even realize they’re being worried about. The ones who are shelter for so many.

Blessed are the ones who speak a spiritual language all their own. The ones who don’t fit in the religious boxes built on the corners of their neighborhood. The ones who have a sparkling soul and an effervescent spirit. The ones who feel like religion stole God from them. The ones who are curious and wide open and ready to receive something they can’t name or understand.

Blessed are you, my friend. You are beloved.

What “beatitude” do you need to hear? What “beatitude” do you think someone in your life needs you to share with them?