Instructions for
living a life.
Pay
attention.
Be
astonished.
Tell
about it. -Mary
Oliver
One of the good gifts of being
old(er) is being able to look back, while still looking forward, to survey the
topographical map of your life. We all
have mountains, hills and valleys, green pastures and rushing waters in our
lives along with deserts and dark nights of the soul. Some of us come to
trouble and grief earlier than others. Some seem to have more than their fair
share of the table set before us all. All of us have choices to make even in
the midst of a maze that seems to have no end, or worse, a bad ending. During my quiet times this week… washing
dishes, mucking stalls, sitting in the doctor’s office, driving to town to
teach… three words kept circling the drain in my ADD brain… mysteries, mercies
and hallelujahs.
My life is full of mysteries. These are not the kind of
mysteries you can solve like a murder mystery or a problem
that has a solution. These mysteries come from deep within and without, leaving
me with more questions than answers as all good mysteries do. John Jacob Niles’
Christmas carol, I Wonder as I Wander, is a word picture of my life.
I made Death’s acquaintance
early on when my husband was killed in Viet Nam the month I turned twenty one.
That mystery, rooted in my childhood and adolescence, ejected me into a world where
there were no easy answers. This world
of grief tempered by joy, a world of grace and mercy, was my entry into the
reality of lost control. Never before had I needed God and God’s bodies in this
world like I needed them then. And, God came. God came weeping, with others who
loved Tim and me, the young officer who escorted his body home, Walt and
MaryLynn and the work camp family, the words of my favorite hymn…O God our help
in ages past, our hope for years to come. God came in the dark days after the
funeral in remembered words from the Bible… Be of good courage, the Comforter
will come, fear no evil in the valley of the shadow of death… and again in the
Family of God, my aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and mothers and
fathers in the faith who held me in the light as I walked in darkness.
I look back now and see mercies, small and large, surrounded
me not only in those days, but all the days of my life. Tim’s death gave me new
eyes to see and ears to hear the endless river of grace and mercy flowing
through my life. It was that unwanted baptism by fire that shoved me into the
waters of life. I was lifted up by the
water wings of love and a new faith, a tender and severe mercy, as I began a
life much different from the one I dreamed of. This new life was filled with
more mysteries, mercies and hallelujahs.
Only now am I able to see how these mysteries, mercies and
hallelujahs are entwined. When I had to accept a world that I could not
control, a world that did not revolve around me, my eyes were opened to mystery
upon mystery, world without end. None of these could be explained…Why do good
people die young? Why does spring lift our hearts at the same time it saddens
us? Where do babies really come from?...and it is good not to have all the
answers. Having no control, I am forced to recognize the mercies that fill my
life… health, Sabbath Rest Farm, family, friends, the sweet smell of newly
baled hay, animals I love who love me back… and knowing these are a gift, I
give thanks. Gratitude leads to hallelujahs for what good is a gift without an
enthusiastic thank you?
And I am back to the
Buechner quote that started me thinking. “Thus you do not solve the mystery,
you live the mystery. And you do that not by fully knowing yourself, but by
fully being yourself. To say that God is a mystery is to say that you can never
nail him down. Even on Christ the nails ultimately proved ineffective.”
Hallelujah, amen!
