But you, son of man, listen to what I say to you. Do not rebel like that rebellious house; open your mouth and eat what I give you.”
Then I looked, and I saw a hand stretched out to me. In it was a scroll, which he unrolled before me. On both sides of it were written words of lament and mourning and woe.
And he said to me, “Son of man, eat what is before you, eat this scroll; then go and speak to the house of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and he gave me the scroll to eat.
Then he said to me, “Son of man, eat this scroll I am giving you and fill your stomach with it.” So I ate it, and it tasted as sweet as honey in my mouth.
Ezekiel 2:8 – 3:2
Bible verses can of course be interpreted to (appear to) support just about any point. For me, reading these verses in isolation, I see a beautiful description of what happens when we “eat” our lament and mourning and woe.
I start out rebellious. I argue against reality. I resist experience. I want things to be different from what they are. (According to my story of it.)
I am invited to eat my lament and mourning and woe. (Meet it. Be with it. Feel it. Welcome it.)
And when I do, I find – to my surprise – that it tastes as sweet as honey in my mouth.
I find that it is not what it appeared to be when I resisted it. It appeared horrifying as long as I resisted meeting, feeling and welcoming it. But when I do, there is a sweetness, comfort, receptivity and nurturing fullness there.