Romans 12:15 'rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with thsoe who weep' - I dread to think how many times that has glibly slipped off my tongue (or my fingers) on this blog, because it has been applied to two different sets of people experiencing very different circumstances simultaneously.

But today it can't be glib, because it's the same set of people, and to rejoice with one part is to add insult to the injury of the other; to weep with one is deny the joy of the other.  Perhaps then, the challenge is to weep joyfully, by which I don't mean happy tears, I mean sadness transformed by hope, gladness tempered by humility or something like that.

I can't be happy today because however momentous the decision, and however good the process, and however many positives I can find, there is still plenty wrong in the state of Denmark... or in this case Scotland and the UK.  There are still endless wrongs to be named and addressed, still trust to be created, still hurts to be healed.

Four years ago, I felt the rug had been pulled from under my feet, I was utterly terrified and wondered if I had a future, never mind what it held.  Back then, friends came alongside and simply 'were'.  I think there's a need for 'simply being' with those who today feel their dreams are shattered, hopes destroyed, fears realised.  And maybe a need, too, to come alongside those who are relieved and reassured as a calm companion, maybe able to lend a little perspective.

As I walked to church and pondered this whole weeping and rejoicing tension, I called to mind a poem I posted way back in 2008, having been given it by a friend at time of huge personal disappointment in 2003.  I found it , and reproduce it again here...

Even as we seem to be dying

in weakness

in fear

overwhelmed by all the forces against us,

there are moments when we know

that we will never be determined

by any of that.

There is a God

who says to us

weep strongly,

be strongly afraid,

care strongly,

choose life strongly in faith

and I will live strongly

in all of that.

 There is a God

 Who moves from hill to mountain top,

 who stands high in the depths of the pit,

 who gasps free of the waters of drowning

 and plants the cross-shaped tree

 on the very shaking ground on which we stand

 as though our trembling earth is like a rock.

 There is a God

 who steps free

 of the binding chains around our souls

 and calls us in a voice

 which always knows our name,

 who always feels our pain,

 who lifts our feet

 as though our life

 stands cupped in a saving hand

 and cherished forever in a life-filled place.

from Dorothy McRae-Mcmahon, Liturgies for the Journey of life, p124