ziabul hossain foundation.jfif

Dear readers,

Every morning nowadays I awake with tears deep inside about the pain I’ve been witnessing, especially in the suffering of the Rohingya. But also, the pain I witness in some of the people I live with in my home community of Derby Manor. There are quite a few who are waiting for a space to become available in long-term care. Waiting lists are a year long. My love for them reminds me of the love God helped me share with the members of my Living Room group years ago. And yet I believe I’m a joyful presence here too. God is very much with me, expressing his joy and love for the people I live with.

Yesterday I posted about the need for humility when leading Living Room groups—for no one to stand above another, all equally in need. I quote something my mentor, Harold G. Koenig said in the book he co-wrote with David Biebel, New Light on Depression, following it with a bit of a twist of my own:

“In other words, unconditional love—the kind of love Jesus lived out during his life on earth—could be looked on as the “ultimate long-term antidote for mental health challenges.” Such love is connected to the hope we will have when we hang onto our faith and allow the man called Jesus to be a part of it—no matter what kind of religious faith we might have.”

A Congolese refugee living in a camp in Uganda summed up my message with this:

“Your reflection beautifully captures the essence of unconditional love and humility exemplified by Jesus; a universal call echoed in both Christian and Muslim teachings. In the face of immense suffering, like that endured by the Rohingya, faith and service to others can anchor us, giving life profound meaning.”

The Secretary of the country of Bangladesh has reposted the message.

I’m starting to receive messages from individuals asking what they can do to contribute. I will have to try hard to stay on top of them.

There are many to talk to virtually. And close to my real life here in the home, people to pour God’s love into.

The picture at the top was shared with me by a Rohingya refugee.   Sad, but a deep expression of love.

marja