Soulful Home: Finding the Sacred in Everyday Spaces

Soulful Home: Finding the Sacred in Everyday Spaces.

What does it mean to be a family of Resilience?

Find your packet here:

https://www.bbuuc.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/SM_2020-02_SH_Resilience-2.pdf

 “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” Have you heard or seen this adage? How do you feel about it? What about this one: “Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” Personally, I find neither of these particularly empowering in my times of need. Least of all do I appreciate the deceptively cheery “Buck up, Buttercup!”

But, there is an old Sam Cooke recording of a gospel song called “I’m So Glad/Trouble Don’t Last Always,” and that thought does inspire. It is both a gratitude for the ephemeral nature of suffering, and a reminder that whatever the problem, it–and we–will change, morph, grow. That resolve to consciously move forward with time and circumstance is resilience.

This month, we’re going to base our exploration of resilience on a few premises:

One, resilience is something you can build and grow. We reach into our own UU tradition for an example of this, in the At the Bedside section.

Two, resilient communities are exponentially stronger and more agile than resilient individuals, so going it together is better than going it alone. In the At Play section, we try our hands at ambitious puzzles to demonstrate this idea.

Three, emergent theology tells us that we won’t always know the goal or the outcome of our efforts, or even the right path to take to head toward the good. But–especially with love and support–we can figure out the next right thing to do. The resolve to do just that, the next right thing, is resilience, too. Our monthly mantra encourages us to stay in the story long enough for the next right thing to rise up and be recognized.

For a people of faith, resilience is more than grit (though it can contain grit), and it’s more than good vibes (though good vibes help). Resilience is about keeping the faith together; reminding ourselves and each other of stories of courage, redemption, and community; and consciously–even playfully–cultivating tools to help us grow into our sturdy wholeness.

My best wishes for a month of deep and joyful exploration,