Hard Times

I was briefly in Minneapolis last week while on the way to the Mayo Clinic with my daughter who had a severe cerebellar stroke four years ago. The impact on her life has been awful, but she has emerged with a remarkable degree of functionality. Our visit to Mayo yielded some really helpful suggestions, and it was a blessing to have time together. But I still feel the pain and fear that lies over Minneapolis like a heavy, dark cloud, and all of this in -17 degrees. I am sad for the desperate people who are being hunted, here in the US some here legally, some here illegally, but most are refugees from danger and deprivation. There is an occasional criminal who should be caught, contained, and sent elsewhere. But demonizing whole groups of people from other nations is unfair to them and is disrespectful to our own ancestors who came from other places. I am alarmed for our own citizens who can feel the reckless aggression in the young men who have put on masks, and are caught up in mob mentality, hurting innocents.

It’s painful that our nation is so divided that we don’t even hear the same news reports. Reality has fractured, based on preconceived notions and which media we tune into. Listening, really listening, has become so very rare on both sides. But brutality by masked men is never okay. What are we becoming? Where is respect for the Constitution? For due process? Where is the necessary combination of sensible boundaries and compassion? I have to believe that the tide will turn and Americans will find a way to restore civility and mutual respect.

Music always helps me. Tonight I found myself singing Steven Foster’s song from the 1800s. “Hard Times Come Again No More”. This is for all who are suffering.