As the sun set over springtime in Southeast Michigan last night, I began to speak to a packed room of women at First United Methodist Church of Brighton. Sunset rang in Yom HaShoah, the day on which we remember the Holocaust, as evidenced by so many Facebook posts today. And I realized, that it was perfect timing.
It always is, of course. But last night, I spoke about the power of breaking bread and finding similarities in our traditions and observances as ways to break down and eradicate hate and build bridges. When we see one another as living, breathing human beings, each with a heart, each with dreams, each with a capacity for love, atrocities cannot happen.
And to think, I was just there to talk about bread.
It’s that basic. Bread is made from the simplest ingredients – flour, water, yeast, salt. Nothing more is needed, but time. There needs to be rising and rest in order for the bread to become what it is meant to be. And yes, I intend the metaphor.
This morning in yoga class, the instructor, who is participating in my current 21 Day Blogging Challenge, quoted the challenge and one of the assignments: to write about how you want to make a difference in the world. Or perhaps how you already are.
And theme of her class focused around the idea that we may not change the entire world, but if, every day, we can make a little difference in someone or something near us, day by day we actually do change the entire world.
If we raise children who are confident and passionate, who strive for change and to do good, she said, then we are changing the world. We are making a difference.
This morning, the fifth consecutive day of waking with the sun to do core exercises, a little yoga and run a mile and a half, the running was harder. I hit the wall, after four days of exhilaration as the running became easier and I became stronger.
The adrenaline of the sunrise still seeped into my pores. I ran anyway. Mantra music in my earbuds, I timed my intervals for running and walking and toward the end, decided just to walk.
Some days are harder than others. And yet, we keep going. We stay the course. We do it anyway because if we don’t, we are taking the first step to veer off path toward outcomes we never wanted.
We have to run anyway, even when it’s cold, even when our legs are tired. Another step, another mile, another day won’t kill us.
Not trying will.