“And it's hard to love
There's so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above
Say it's much, too much, too late
Well, maybe we should all be praying for time”
Praying for Time - George Michael
James Hunter of Rolling Stone described this song as "a distraught look at the world's astounding woundedness. “Michael offers the healing passage of time as the only balm for physical and emotional hunger, poverty, hypocrisy and hatred."
Like a disease, apathy and indifference befalls us. We stare rather than respond. Look away rather than face. Withhold rather than give. I don’t fault anyone. It’s the world we live in.
Like Deotis McMather an AIDS patient who returned to his apartment after being diagnosed with AIDS, only to find that his belongings had been thrown out onto the street.
“Expert scientists” driving fear into every living human being, like one big co-morbidity. I cannot let myself forget these events in history. Not ever.
When it comes to the word “woundedness,” it describes to me, our collective healing in Christ. It is a moment that can point us toward great faith.
Faith in beauty. All Creation which envelopes our seeing, hearing, reaching, touching, holding, smelling. Tangibility vs. isolation. Trust vs. fear. Giving and receiving. Emotional generosity. Windows divide our ability to hold onto life before death to comfort, love fully, experience humility, a depth of benevolence and GREAT conviction in God and goodness. A compelling force of prayer, sincere petition and intentness of will. There is so much to hate where bitterness roots. But there is so much to love in a garden of goodwill, where peace meets sleep and sleep rises to love.
The recognition of human vulnerability and woundedness, in every human life and in humanity as a whole, does not leave anyone behind to die alone.
We suffer together.
When George Michael wrote this song in 1990 the AIDS epidemic was at a peak. Over 75 million people have been affected by AIDS. People feared contagion, so it was stigmatized, which left no avenues to restore a life once sick. Social isolation, rejection from friends, family and from society was rampant. Lack of information was driven by the fear of asking questions due to societal shame for asking. Dying alone, with no one by their side.
Has anything changed?
It will be a long time before we know the true numbers of how many ways people were affected by Covid-19. It’s not going to just go away.
“These are the days of the empty hand
Oh, you hold on to what you can
And charity is a coat you wear twice a year
This is the year of the guilty man
Your television takes a stand
And you find that what was over there is over here
So you scream from behind your door
Say what's mine is mine and not yours
I may have too much but I'll take my chances
'Cause God's stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things they sold you
Did you cover your eyes when they told you
That he can't come back 'cause he has no children
To come back for?”
At worst, the response was social marginalization, discrimination, and punishment — blaming people for their own suffering and criminalizing them for their behavior. The fear, pain, and despair faced by persons living with AIDS and their loved ones cannot be overstated. It did not change the world for the better. Nothing was learned or gained.
The same people in charge then, were in charge during the world pandemic.
And many lost souls were punished for their choices and died alone.
What will never change is how we, the public, will choose to respond. We can respond with love and respect, knowing we will all be judged in the end, or we can respond with great fear.
We are the nexus of change. The cycle of woundedness can be broken.
Most of all, what will remain consistent, and available for each and every one of us, is the Light of God, which sustains and shines in our darkest hours. He is near to the brokenhearted, and during these days of iniquity we are called to love one another like God loves us. Our only job in this world is to work on ourselves, be aware of dark forces and behave with civility.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."
- 1 Corinthians 13:13
This piece came about after
and I wrote about our childhoods in the 70’s… and two of our Substack friends, and were inspired to write an 80’s version. Without either of them knowing or I knowing what they would write about, I was listening to a George Michael playlist the day before their story released this week. When I read their piece, George Michael was one of their favorite singers. Trudi also mentioned a young Lady Diana Spencer, who was about to marry a Prince. My instant vision was how she broke the stigma of AIDS patients with her fearless, natural love. I will never forget it. My mind fast-forwarded to all who died, or were injured in the pandemic, and all who were mistreated, maligned, estranged, and in many cases left to die alone, due to their vaccine “choices.” Read Patrick’s Story.What we have never learned, as a mob mentality society, is that “with God” there is a plan for our lives. So fearless, we must be, in the approach of love and compassion. We can take precautions, mask up if we choose, and hold the hand of the dying. We come into this world held. We should leave this world held. This natural blessing of humanity was hijacked and stolen by the “guilty man and the television that took a stand.”
It’s still taking a stand.
We must listen to our hearts like a princess did.
“In April 1987, at the height of the AIDS epidemic, while many turned away and ignored what was happening, Princess Diana opened the UK’s first specialist HIV/AIDS unit at London’s Middlesex Hospital, a space that would exclusively care for patients with the virus.
While visiting the unit, she famously noted, “HIV does not make people dangerous to know. You can shake their hands and give them a hug. Heaven knows they need it. What's more, you can share their homes, their workplaces, and their playgrounds and toys.”
May our collective woundedness point us in the direction of Love.
What a musical genius and beautiful soul George Michael was.
Just beautiful and poignant. I absolutely love that song and the way you’ve interwoven the lyrics into your work is breathtaking. I remember Diana hugging the AIDS sufferers and showing real compassion, without fear or disgust. I remember the fear of AIDS and how the last pandemic replicated it. All to divide us. You are right. We need more love, more hope, more humanity. Thank you, Deborah. 🙏
Beautiful post, Deborah. I, too, was reminded of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s when I saw how people responded to Covid. The parallels were awful.