Freefall into Unknowing

Mar 23 / Lisa Graham McMinn
This day my heart is heavy, yes, with the weight-of-the-world sort of trouble caused by a small smart virus, but more significantly with Job-like heart-wrenching trials falling on a little family in my clan. I tried writing a defense of God against the “why them?” and “how could a loving God allow this?” sorts of questions.

That didn’t go so well. God is better left undefended. So, I began again.

What I can do on this day, what any of us can do on a day demanding answers for unanswerable questions, is to respectfully hold our unknowing. To a rational mind that is a cop-out. Sure it is. But to a heart attuned to mystery, holding our unknowing is a gift of release to a God one believes is, by definition, Love.

Maybe that helps us hold our pain and the pain of others in dark days. Maybe we all need holding more than words—presence more than questions or answers.

To that end, on this day in the middle of Lent, as the world wrestles a virus that has shaken our sense of control and put life in perspective, as our families and friends encounter expected and unexpected grief (sometimes grief upon grief), I offer a few strung together words in an attempt to welcome unknowing.

Unknowing Freefall

collective hope just flew overhead—
squawking joy heading
unmindful of heaviness below
“light as a feather”

i sigh.

collective hope on the move
honking gray heavy-bodied

it’s the beautiful
(though not perfect)
that draws my face upward

what do geese know of pain, of God?

their feathery breeze
moves on—
We have places to go they sing, lives to live.

their shadow passes
(my burden stays)
I remember
One named Love
called us into being and holds

Lisa Graham McMinn

Lisa relishes time meandering the woods and tending goats, hens, and gardens. When she’s not outside she's listening to the nudges of God with one of her spiritual directees, or supervisees, reading, writing, or making goat-milk soap. Lisa is a contemplative Quaker who seeks to see each storied life as part of a bigger story—all of them held together by God. She and her husband live on Fern Creek, a small farm a few miles outside of Newberg, Oregon and attend North Valley Friends Meeting in Newberg. More information about her work, blog posts, and contact information can be found at