“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” – Rumi.

A blog reader sent me a message last night: “I don’t know who else to ask. What do you think would heal our nation?” I admit to being overwhelmed by the question.

Poor woman, I thought, she must know that question is way about me.

Maybe the Dalai Lama could answer it, or a great philosopher or mystic.

It’s way over my head. The funny thing, though, was that earlier in the night, I asked myself the same question Betty from Arizona was asking me in an e-mail.

This is a much bigger question for our country than I can know or answer. It is timely, for sure.

The thought that always comes to my mind is that the most healing thing I ever do is focus on the poor. This is, for me, the true, the pure vision; that’s why so many people who do it become saints.

I am no saint now and will never be one, I’m no Christian either,  but I know that the emotion that can break my heart is sometimes the same one that heals it.

St. Augustine wrote that the poor are given to the Church so that the Church as the body of Christ can be and remain a place of mutual concern, love, and peace.

Thomas Aquinas said somewhat the same thing about animals. They exist to teach us mercy.

My own idea of healing is personal; we do it one at a time, each in our own way. The country seems to be a gaping wound sometimes,  in great need of healers.

I am turning away from writing about politics or Donald Trump and instead focusing on the small acts of kindness that have grown into the Army of Good.

Two months ago, I joined the Poor People’s  Campaign: A National Call For A Moral Revival, founded by the Rev. William Barber. I’ll support the group, participating in its activities, marches, and meetings, and offering my blog as one small way to get their message out. I love their message.

I didn’t want to write about it until I understood the organization better. My blog and I can help. I’m a strong believer in using the blog’s power to do good.

“Don’t you come talking to me about Jesus,” the Rev Barber said, “unless you’re standing with the poor.”

I am drawn to the idea of a moral revival; that’s what most global faiths were all about, especially Christianity. Why isn’t that a good idea now? What better way to heal?

If we don’t address this issue of poverty, Rev.  Barber said after a march to help the poor, “we will never energize the 100 million Americans who stayed home and didn’t vote in 2016. If you mobilize 2 to 10 percent of the poor around an agenda, you can fundamentally shift every election in this country.”

It makes sense to me, and it heals me simultaneously. The Rev. Barber is one of those real Christians, not the mucking up our politics and seizing power.

I believe hope and glory – healing – comes with aspiritual life, and all around me, I see an aspiritual world. Our poor politicians and leaders seem to be losing their souls and minds in that angry and greedy world.

Every major faith in the world began with a call to love the poor and care for them. That was the measure of our humanity, the path to healing our wounds.

I guess that’s as far as I got about healing.  It feels me up, soothes my wounds, makes me feel human. It gives me hope. The people who help the poor seem at peace to me. The people who don’t seem adrift, or worse.

I also thought of patience and listening as two healing ideas, both in short supply in our world. But it is too big a question for me.

In the meantime, I’m eager to help the Poor People’s Campaign. I’ve been waiting for it ever since the first big march in 1968. Stay tuned.