If You’re Sitting With Sadness This Week…

Field Note: A quiet reflection in a time of heartbreak

The air feels thick this week. Heavy with questions we don’t quite know how to ask. For some of us, it’s something seen on the news: a headline, a photo, a name.

For others, it’s closer. A place we know. A camp we’ve loved. Some of us are grieving friends. Some are holding space for kids who are confused or afraid. Some are just quiet; we don’t know what to say.

Fred Rogers once said:

“When I was a boy, and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

He returned to those words often. Not to explain tragedy but to point to something steady, something still true when everything else feels lost.

But maybe there’s another way to hear those words. Perhaps someone is looking for us. Hoping we’ll show up. Hoping we won’t leave.

When hard things happen, we often try to solve them. We do the math:

“If something this terrible happened, someone must have failed. Maybe even God.”

But heartbreak isn’t always logical.

And love isn’t always loud.

Some say, “Everything happens for a reason.” More often, everything just happens. And then love shows up. It shows up in those who stay. And help.

In the people who wade through water, calm frightened kids, hold trembling hands. In the teacher who reads one more story. In the neighbour who brings soup and asks nothing in return. In the friend who sits with us in the silence.

Love doesn’t always speak. Sometimes, it just stays.

So this week, if we’re sitting with pain, or questions, or quiet, that’s okay.

We don’t need to rush past it. But we can ask:

Who might be looking for us?

Who needs us to be the ones who don’t leave?

We may not have answers. But we can still be present. We can still be found.

May we become the helpers.

And maybe, for now… that’s enough.