Mtr Mary Trainor

Dear friend,

“...and I shall be their God and they shall be my people.”
 
In the low seasons of our lives, we might not be so keen on hearing from others as to how we got ourselves into this or that trouble. Or how we may have fallen into disfavor with ones who matter. Or even that another and better day lies ahead.
 
In moments of suffering, or shame, or some other form of darkness, dealing with a truth-teller is not high on our list.
 
Enter the Prophet Jeremiah, tasked with communicating with the people of Israel living in exile, presumably abandoned by their God. To them, his words could seem like gasoline tossed on an already white-hot fire.
 
But in that gasoline were quenching words of hope and promise that far surpassed anything they had known: God still wanted to be in relationship. In fact, God was striking a new deal, a deal in perpetuity, embedded within them so they could never forget. And God said they were forgiven, and that their sins would no longer be remembered.
 
I had one very dark quarter in college. A relationship ended and classes seemed especially pointless. Immobilized, I let coursework slide. Without even the energy to withdraw from classes, I ended up with 12 units of F. And I didn’t care. Not then. By the time I cared again, my GPA had taken a serious hit.
 
Enter Ruth Harmer, an English professor, whose class I had failed. About a year after the disastrous quarter, she stopped me in a hallway. “I just realized you got an F in my class last year. I knew that was a mistake, so I just now changed it to a W (for Withdraw.) I am so sorry for the error.”
 
 An act of grace in the midst of challenge can change everything. For me in that college hallway, for the people of Israel in their 6th century BCE exile, for anyone under the spell of darkness.
 
...and I shall be their God and they shall be my people.”
 
Mtr. Mary