August 2, 2023
“It Could Be Vurse:” A Prayer
O Lord, it’s what the Swedes and Norwegians I grew up with would say;
“Vell, it could be vurse,”
is what they would say;
“Well, it could be worse,”
is what they meant to say;
their house might have been
flattened by a tornado,
they might have been
conned out of their life savings,
they might have had
someone they loved
devastated by disease,
they themselves might have been
diagnosed with a fatal illness,
someone close might have died;
yet,
if you asked them
how they were,
they would always answer,
"Vell, it could be vurse;”
just how
it could have been worse
wasn’t exactly clear, but
they felt fortunate that it
wasn’t worse than it was,
wasn’t as bad as what a friend was facing,
wasn’t as bad as what a neighbor was dealing with, or
what a stranger they heard about was going through, or
what was on the news;
so they
felt comforted,
didn’t complain,
didn’t feel sorry for themselves, and
when asked how they were doing,
would answer,
“Oh, not too bad,”
even when it was bad, really bad;
would answer,
“Oh, pretty good,”
even when it wasn’t pretty or good;
would answer,
“Oh, we’ll get by,”
even though they didn’t have a dime left on which to get by;
and the thing is,
they meant it,
weren’t putting on a good face,
not just whistling in the dark,
but
actually believed,
believed
they would
get through it all;
actually felt
truly thankful;
actually became
more compassionate;
because,
“Vell,
it could be
vurse.”
And the thing is, O Lord, they were right, things can always be
worse than they are;
there’s always someone
worse off than we are;
there’s always people somewhere who have it
worse than we do; and
knowing this
works somehow,
at least for me;
knowing this
stops me whining;
helps me see what
bad for me better
than what bad for others;
gets me to realize
I am far from alone in it all;
opens my eyes to
blessings all around,
how much there is to be thankful for;
gets me thinking about
refugee camps,
homeless shelters, soup kitchens, famine-struck nations, the
hollow faces and sunken eyes of starving children, and
those who literally have no one, no one to
care for them,
assist them,
mourn them;
makes me
forget myself,
remember others,
feel compassion,
want to do something
for those in worse shape than I am,
do something
no matter what shape I’m in; and
knowing this
sets me to rejoicing,
oddly enough,
rejoicing in you,
rejoicing because
what I finally see is that
you are with us in and through the worst and the best;
so maybe joy not odd or out of place at all;
and the same is true
when it comes to our nation;
gives me perspective on the
worst of days, days
when I think it can’t get
worse than it is, days
when it does get worse,
by helping me to remember
that we have been through worse,
survived, came out stronger, better;
somehow goodness, kindness, truth,
overcoming evil, cruelty, lies, even
fear and violence;
the best
in us
prevailing against
the worst
in us.
O Lord, maybe saying that it could be worse is a statement of faith,
the faith that
trusts you will give us
the strength
to bear what must be borne,
the eyes
to see that others must bear
far worse,
the hearts
to feel what
others feel, feel it enough to help them bear what they must bear;
the faith that
believes that there is reason to hope because
things aren’t too bad, not as bad as they could be;
believes that things are pretty good because
there is so much that is pretty and good no matter how bad things are;
believes that we’ll get by because
we as people, we as a nation,
have gotten by, have made it to this day, have survived
by your grace and mercy, and in our faith
in your grace and mercy we will
continue to get by;
the faith that
leans on you
and gives thanks and rejoices in you even when things are at
their worst.
Give us such
faith!
And we pray, O Lord, for those who find it very hard to imagine
how things could be worse, people battling fearsome disease,
suffering with chronic illness or pain, who are dying,
who are grieving, and the homeless, the hungry,
refugees everywhere.
Heal, strengthen, console, sustain, and lift them in hope!
And move us to be there for them in whatever way we can.
O Lord, it could be vurse,
which means it’s not too bad,
which means it’s better than it could be,
which means it’s pretty good,
which means we’ll get by,
which means we can be at
our best
in the worst,
trusting that in the worst you are at your best, leading us
beyond the worst
to a best
beyond any best
we can imagine.
Amen.