Dear One,
Word came yesterday of the tragedy you and your family are enduring. I have traveled through the Land of Darkness a few times and as a mother and a survivor of loss myself, I wanted to write and offer my experiences with the hope they might provide some comfort and light for the journey you now face.
First, you can say goodby to normal as you have known it. Your life will never be the same again. Grieve the loss of what you had but know this, you now have an opportunity to create a new, stronger, more loving normal than you had before. All that was has been wiped away and you stand in what might seem to be a bleak and barren landscape, but all has not been lost.
When you survey the ground upon which you now stand, I hope you will be able to see those who stand with you, the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before you to this land of grief and loss and rage. Your eyes will now see differently. People whom you thought were untouched by struggle and pain will reveal themselves to you, share their suffering and show you their wounds. These companions know of your hurt too deep for words, have walked through their own dark valleys and will hold you close in their hearts as you make your own journey. All grief is unique and all grief is the same. Your heart, in being broken, will be stronger when it is mended and your compassion for others will become a balm for other’s souls.
Second, do not hug this hurt to yourself keeping it in the darkness of guilt and shame. It will grow moldy and not support new life until it is stands in the sunshine of sharing. Find a therapist or counselor for some professional help (been there and done that and will do it again). Call your friends and let them listen to you weep and rage. Say yes when they call you...when they ask if they can help, say yes and give them something to do. Let them keep your children so you can take a nap. Ask for a meal to be brought once a week so you can take a break from one of your daily tasks. Let your friends provide rest in this weary land. You have some hard work to do and they need to be able to help you for Love’s sake.
Third, let your faith help you find your new blue highways of life. This season of Lent has rich tradition, scripture that speaks to the sorrowful, a path already marked through the darkness of death and suffering. Read the Bible. Explore paths taken by some who have gone before you and see if their story can light the dark landscape of loss. Eat the bread. Drink the wine. Search for your coming resurrection and light as you remember Jesus and his journey through death to transformed life.
When you go to church tonight you will be marked with a cross of ashes. This outward sign of Lent hearkens back to the days when new church members spent forty days in sack cloth and ashes repenting of all sins committed and sins yet to come. Days in sack cloth and ashes marks each of our lives and reminds us of Paul’s words, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” For me the important word in this is “all”. None of us is perfect, no, not one and to forgive ourselves is sometimes more difficult than forgiving others. Try to be as kind and loving to yourself as God is. Look for gratitude in the midst of your struggles and seek out your blessings even as you face all you have lost.
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy steadfast love...Create in me a new heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of my salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.” Mercy, steadfast love, new heart and right spirit, salvation joy and Holy Spirit presence... all these and much more I pray for you in your valley of the shadow, dear. You are not alone. You are loved. You will be made whole again. Thanks be to the God who makes all things possible through Love that does not let us go. Amen.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Walkabout Wandering...
Michael and I went walkabout this weekend. We drove to Abingdon, Virginia, a small historic town, and stayed at a lovely hotel that was first a family residence and then a girls college. Many of the shops were closed for the season but that hardly mattered. We needed to step aside from the everydayness of our living and catch our breath. It was a jewel of a holiday.
Virginia countryside, like the North Carolina mountains, has a hold of my soul in some strange way I cannot explain. Since childhood these two geographical locations have called out to me, felt like home, whenever I am there. Perhaps there is some DNA transmission from my ancestors that connects me to these places, connections passed on from great-great-grandparents through my parents to me. Perhaps it is more mystical than that. It doesn’t really matter because I know home when I see and feel it. That is what matters.
The Bible tells stories of others who have gone walkabout. Abraham and Sarah, the Israelites leaving Egypt, the Prodigal Son, Jesus himself, all went somewhere else seeking and searching for something elusive, something that was not where they were. Sometimes they knew it when they saw it and sometimes God had to knock them upside the head to clear their vision. The journey, the trip, leaving behind the workaday world to clear out the sticky cobwebs that hold our soul’s eyes half shut, can help us find our home place again.
The journey can be simple... a weekend retreat of silence and reflection, hiking the Appalachian trail for a few days, going to a friend’s house for an overnight stay... but leaving home to find it is never simple. All you have to do is read your Bible to see how complicated and messy it can be. Abraham passed Sarah, his wife, off as his sister to another man. The Prodigal Son ended up in a pig pen. And the Israelites refused to listen to their GPS system thus condemning themselves to a forty year hiatus in the wilderness.
A walkabout journey for Christians begins this week with Ash Wednesday and the imposition of ashes. I know “imposition” means marking in this context but for me, it also means it is a hitch in my getalong, a break in my usual routine. If I pay attention, read my map and listen to the GPS system provided by this liturgical season of Lent, I can find my home once more in the Love that never lets me go, the Life that is the source of my life, the Laughter that takes delight in my being. So here goes... on the road again... Ash Wednesday, Lent, Easter... death, burial, resurrection... home, sweet home... I know it when I see and feel it.
Virginia countryside, like the North Carolina mountains, has a hold of my soul in some strange way I cannot explain. Since childhood these two geographical locations have called out to me, felt like home, whenever I am there. Perhaps there is some DNA transmission from my ancestors that connects me to these places, connections passed on from great-great-grandparents through my parents to me. Perhaps it is more mystical than that. It doesn’t really matter because I know home when I see and feel it. That is what matters.
The Bible tells stories of others who have gone walkabout. Abraham and Sarah, the Israelites leaving Egypt, the Prodigal Son, Jesus himself, all went somewhere else seeking and searching for something elusive, something that was not where they were. Sometimes they knew it when they saw it and sometimes God had to knock them upside the head to clear their vision. The journey, the trip, leaving behind the workaday world to clear out the sticky cobwebs that hold our soul’s eyes half shut, can help us find our home place again.
The journey can be simple... a weekend retreat of silence and reflection, hiking the Appalachian trail for a few days, going to a friend’s house for an overnight stay... but leaving home to find it is never simple. All you have to do is read your Bible to see how complicated and messy it can be. Abraham passed Sarah, his wife, off as his sister to another man. The Prodigal Son ended up in a pig pen. And the Israelites refused to listen to their GPS system thus condemning themselves to a forty year hiatus in the wilderness.
A walkabout journey for Christians begins this week with Ash Wednesday and the imposition of ashes. I know “imposition” means marking in this context but for me, it also means it is a hitch in my getalong, a break in my usual routine. If I pay attention, read my map and listen to the GPS system provided by this liturgical season of Lent, I can find my home once more in the Love that never lets me go, the Life that is the source of my life, the Laughter that takes delight in my being. So here goes... on the road again... Ash Wednesday, Lent, Easter... death, burial, resurrection... home, sweet home... I know it when I see and feel it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
