(Ir)Reverend Ramblings

I did it! It was close to midnight but I finally put in the last piece … of the 2000 piece jigsaw puzzle I have been working on for the last few weeks. It was so big when the pieces were spread out it took the whole dining room table (a table that can seat 8!). Anyone who visited the house was ordered to put in at least three pieces whenever they passed the table. It took HOURS and I almost gave up several times, but persistence paid off and last night, when it was finally done, I took some photos and texted them off to people who had helped with it, to show that it was done.

Without putting too fine a point on it a puzzle can be an interesting metaphor for life. Often life seems a jumble of pieces that make no sense. Even more than that, often I would pick up a puzzle piece, absolutely confident I knew where it would fit and no matter how many times I turned that little bit this way and that it would not fit the space. Then, to my surprize, days later it would easily slide into a totally unrelated part of the picture the colours and shape blending perfectly in a spot I would never have predicted. How like life this is. Sometime I think I know exactly how things are going to turn out and, to my surprise there is a change, a challenge, an interruption that takes everything in a different direction. I know that this is not what Jesus was referring to when he said “Be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves.” But the dichotomies of life are often very puzzling. Plans and expectations are often changed when life gets in the way. As the old adage goes, ‘If you want to make God laugh, tell God your plans!’

Whenever we put a puzzle out it has to be at a time when we know we have time. A puzzle cannot be rushed, it is something to work away at, studying, testing, trying, repeating. A puzzle can take all our concentration or it can be a gentle activity while talking on the phone or listening to the radio. Much like life, it can’t be rushed or hurried along and it is best enjoyed when we take it slow! A puzzle is also a great community activity. Several people working on a puzzle often fall into idle chat with that puzzle as a helpful third part of the conversation. Problems can be sorted, loves can be revealed, while piece by piece we build the picture.

I have left my completed puzzle out on the table and every time I pass by I admire it. It’s done. I will box it up soon but first I want to savour the accomplishment of sticking with it, that is also a bit like life. Sometimes we just need to appreciate what we have done, how far we have come, who we have been with, and say a quiet, “Thank you for this.”

Today is Friday the 13th. Today marks six months. Carl died on Friday the 13th of October. He was in hospital for 9 days as his life slowly ebbed away. The nurses were astounded that he lasted that long as he had grown so frail. On the Thursday I jokingly said to the nurse, “I think he is waiting for Friday the 13th so I will always remember the day he died.” And so I do.

You might wonder what it is like to slowly try to adapt to a new way of being after years of being another way. This Sunday would have been our 30th wedding anniversary. So after 29 1/2 years as a couple I am now a one. It hit me hard the first time I had to tick the box … single, married, divorced, WIDOW. Widow – such an old sounding word and I have to tick that box. It hits me every 13th of the month – another month gone. It’s hits me every time I walk in the front door. I still call out, “I’m home!” knowing no one will answer back. It floods over me every morning when I wake up and would have rolled over and snuggled into the crook of his arm but only see that his half of the bed is empty. It hit’s me at social times when I would have found his eyes in the room and we would have known exactly what the other was thinking. I still say we, our, us.

I have been away from home this week for some Continuing Education. I found myself in a circle of people I did not know. In the past I would have phoned home to let him know I arrived okay. I would have called each night to see how his day went. Instead I found myself collapsing into tears for no apparent reason to this roomful of strangers.

Our family Easter gathering was fun as always. I was surrounded by the people who know me the best and always seem able to love me no matter what. It was fun and joy filled and I could hardly bear it only because he was not there with me.

I can accomplish the humdrum. I pay all the bills now. I have organized the Income Tax and managed (I think) to find all his papers for this, his final year of paying tax. I will soon call about getting the garage roof shingled … and life goes on … while a piece of me is held suspended on a Friday the 13th.

None of this is new or remarkable. This is all in the books on grief. These are common feelings to someone raw with loss. But they are all new to me. Last night I gathered with a room full of women. Dear friends from years ago. They are all part of the congregation where Carl and I met. They all go to the church where Carl and I were married. They held me in a loving net of friendship. We laughed as we enjoyed food and wine. They soothed my soul and one sent me home with the flowers that had decorated the table. I am going now to put them on Carl’s grave. My friend knew what flowers to choose. The flowers that decorated the church at our wedding. The flowers Carl always gave me. The flowers I put in his bouquet at his funeral. They were our flowers. Now, on this 6 month anniversary I will lay them on his grave and I will say the beautiful, comforting words from the Creed, “In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. We are not alone.”

This morning, at our second service, we welcomed First Responders – Police, Fire, Paramedics and staff from the ER. It was the result of several months of planning and came about as part of our response to devastating fires experienced by two families in our congregation. We wanted the First Responders to know how grateful we are for their commitment to service in our community. We did not know when we sent out the invitations a few weeks ago how timely the service would be.

The horrific accident in Saskatchewan that left 15 dead and 14 more injured and in hospital has left a burden of sorrow for the whole country. I think there was not likely a church in the land that did not raise up prayers for the families effected by the death of these brilliant young hockey players. I cannot begin to imagine the trauma that accompanies first responders to such an accident from providing aid and assistance on the site to delivering the tragic news to families.

At the children’s time in the service I asked the children what they would do in an emergency. There was a show of hands and the hoped-for response to, “Call 911”. Then I asked, “What would happen?” Quick reply, “Someone would answer and ask, “What do you want? And they would send someone.” Later in the service, I pointed out to the congregation how fortunate we are that we can train our children to know to dial 911 and that they have the confidence to expect safety and response.

I don’t think we should ever be so arrogant as to take for granted those who devote their lives to the aid of others. We are reliant on the dedication of those who are willing to risk their own safety to protect others. We have so much to be thankful for.

I have been very fortunate in that I have been able to visit Israel and Palestine three times. It is remarkable and a “pinch-me” worthy experience to stand in the very spots we read about in scripture. I remember so clearly the first time I stood on the ‘mount’ where Jesus spoke of what we now call the Beatitudes, also when we went sailing on the Sea of Galilee, and walking on the path that led into Capernaum. But, I think the most memorable moment for me was, and will remain, the ‘Upper Room’ where Jesus gathered with his followers for what would be their Passover meal and the last supper they shared together. The tour guide was quick to point out that this was not the very room but a replica in the area of the city where the original building might have been. Nonetheless it was one of those ‘time-stood-still’ kind of moments as my imagination catapulted me back to the days of Jesus.

This is Holy Week and today is Maundy Thursday the day when Jesus ate the meal, washed the disciples feet, and went to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. All this week the stories of his final days weave together to tell a story of a political activist who knew God’s love so profoundly that he was willing to risk all to instruct and model God’s compassion and devotion to humanity. I often try to place myself in the story. Who would I be and where would I be on the night of the Passover? As Friday looms where do I fit in the story? Am I amid the jeering crowd or with the faithful at the cross?

This story of Jesus’ last week is one rich with symbolism and meaning. It fires the imagination and the emotions as it presents the pain and passion of one who was prepared to give all for the greater good. Tonight at the Maundy Thursday service we will hear of Jesus’ call to the disciples. Tomorrow we will weep at his cross and then move into the long wait of grief until the message of his resurrection splits the skies with the singing of angels.

Last night there was a, for the most part, NON-sleep over for the youth. This is an annual thing we do here. We round up the pre-teen and teens, cart in sleeping bags, pillows, and bags of snacks and settle down for fun activity and movie viewing. Oh there is a bit of learning too. This year we talked about caring for the environment and the weekly meal we offer in our Out of the Cold program. We played some environmentally related games and did some baking for Out of the Cold. We had a blast … but we didn’t sleep much. It was about 3:00 AM when kids started drifting towards couches and I heard the last giggle at around 6:00 AM. We got them up at 7:30 as parents came for pick up at 8:00. We all agreed next year we will have to stay later in the morning. It is too hard to get up that early!

Now I am preparing to assist in leadership at the funeral of one of our elders. Vern was a great guy. He was the founding member of our Olde Tyme Gospel Band. He had his pew at the back of the church. He would often show up at my door and sit for a bit while we talked over the state of things! Then just as he was ready to leave he would say, “I’ve got a little story for you.” and he would tell me a joke. I am going to miss those friendly visits. He and his wife had been married for over 60 years. I try to imagine the loss she is feeling.

So, I guess this is my weekend of youth and elders; honouring both ends of the age spectrum that make up the richness of our faith community. I have gone from playing games and laughing at movie antics to singing old gospel hymns and reminiscing about one who loved family, community and faith above all else. This is the delight that ministry gives me day after day and week after week; a full-on spectrum of opportunity to be with people young and old. Sometimes I get frustrated with the pettiness of people, the complaints that people make, the things that people say, but then I remember days like today and know that the complexities of community is what makes life rich and wonderful.

Tomorrow night is ‘The Oscars’. Not just the Oscars but the 89th year since Oscar made his first appearance. In 1929 on May 16th the first Oscars were held. They lasted 15 minutes and 270 people watched! I am already anticipating settling down to watch the show. Well, my version will be pvr’d as I have a movie to see at the church first. But, there I will be in front of my television. Yes, my eyes will roll at some of the thank you speeches and my mouth will drop when I see some of the outfits, but mostly I will be curious to see how the movies fared based on the voters.

This year, unlike some, I have seen several of the shows in the running. Which is pretty good considering I don’t live in a cosmopolitan, urban setting. But, we do have a great little movie theatre here in Bracebridge and they do a fabulous job of bringing in the big name movies. I have my favourites in the running and so I will be curious if Gary Oldham does win Best Actor for “The Darkest Hour” and if Frances McDormand gets the nod for “Three Billboards”. I thought their performances in each of those movies was outstanding.

Not everyone is a movie buff but I love to ‘go to the show’. Some of the movies this year, like “Three Billboards” and “I, Tonya” were pretty gritty and hard to watch at times but I also see in each of them reason to ponder and reflect. Those two in particular had theological themes including good and evil, forgiveness and redemption.

Cinema as an art form can that take us beyond our own experience and touch something deep in our soul. Movies can showcase the human experience. A good movie makes us laugh, makes us cry and makes us think.

Tomorrow night the Oscars will be all about the glitz and glamour. Some will try to make political statements and some will succeed in their intent but mostly it is about the red carpet and self adulation. Oh, and money!! Nonetheless I will be settled on my couch to see it all because for all the entertainment factor there is also the opportunity with cinema to change how people think. That can be a good thing.

Now! The future is now!

How many times have you been caught up in making plans for the future? I know I do it all the time. I am always thinking about tomorrow, the weekend, summer holidays, next year, etc. etc. Either that or, these days especially, I spend time remembering the past, what happened when, and yesterday a surprising realization came to me. The future doesn’t arrive. It sneaks up on me. What I was waiting for is already here and I hardly noticed it’s arrival.

There has, for years, been lots of talk about mindfulness, “Be mindful”, the gurus tell us. I don’t know about you but I find mindfulness hard. I mean, … slowing down… breathing … noticing … all those things take concentration and, well, being mindful. In a fast paced, instant gratification world, mindfulness is a challenge. I have realized my default is to be either melancholy about the past or concerned about the future. But there we are, the future is quietly unfolding and what I thought would be tomorrow is already today before I know it.

Here at BUC we had a congregational conversation on Sunday to think about who we are and what we value, and how we could do better. It was both a looking back and looking forward event. It was history and future all rolled into one three-hour conversation among 50 friends. Future planning is important but also intangible and a bit of a guessing game. Nonetheless, by the end of the afternoon there was a great energy in the room. The stories told were meaningful, heartfelt and important. Bits and pieces of lives shared as we remembered who we were and as we joined hands to go forward into who we will be.

Today is the last day of February. The days are getting longer. The sun is getting warmer. The season is turning and the world feels different partly because the future is sneaking up on us. It is not down a road somewhere or in the page of the calendar it is here now!

I came across a quote … it’s by, you know … anonymous… but I really like it. It frames something for me that is encouraging and inspiring. Here is it.

“What if the church is not the place we go to encounter God but the place from which we are sent to encounter God? What if it’s the place of preparation, not the destination? What if the point of church is to attune ourselves to God so that we can more clearly notice God out in the world?”

So here is my question to you, dear readers, how and where are you encountering God these days? Is it in the crusty neighbour who doesn’t speak much but when you’re not looking carries your blue bin up your driveway? Is it the surly teenager who can hardly look up from his phone but whom you know desperately wants to be noticed? Is it the moment you look up at the canopy of stars in the inky black sky and your breath is taken from you by the beauty? Is it the panhandler you try to avoid but who says, “God bless you” even as you pass by? Is it the grieving neighbour who doesn’t come out much? Where are you encountering God? Is it in the deep questioning of life and it inequities even as you share what you have with others?

The gospel stories of Jesus are filled with stories of his interactions and each brings a glimpse of the transformation that can come from encounters. Think of Nicodemus who came to Jesus in the darkness so no one would see him. Think of the woman at the well or the woman who touched the hem of Jesus coat. Think of those 12 named as apostles and the many other women and men who followed him. Remember that Jesus often went away to a quiet place by himself to pray – for you maybe a snowy trail or a quiet family room. We all have our places of reflection and meditation; places we go to encounter the depth of being, the source of love – God.

Happy encountering this week. Let me know in the comments where, or who, gave you a glimpse to the source of all love.

I did the preaching here on Sunday. Since I reduced my work to half-time I preach only 8 times a year. I miss preaching as I have always enjoyed that part of ministry and so feel genuinely excited when I get to take my turn in the pulpit. The scripture reading was Jesus calling Simon and Andrew, James and John the four men he noticed fishing on Lake Galilee. I spoke on ‘Vocation’ and ‘Occupation’ and how they can be similar and how they are different. I also talked about our call as disciples of Jesus doing what we do right where we do it. I challenged the notion that Jesus asked those four fisherman to leave all they knew behind. Rather, he asked them to use what they already knew and live it out in their commitment to God. Then I gave HOMEWORK! Yep, right there in the sermon I gave HOMEWORK! People don’t generally expect to get HOMEWORK at church but I gave it to them anyway.

The task, the assignment, was to spend some time over lunch talking with the others at the table. The topic was “Here’s what I do well and here’s how I am doing this for God because I am a follower Jesus.” I said, if they were eating alone then they were to think on that and then phone a friend and talk it over with the friend and then, finally, they were to drop me a note or email to tell me. WOW! I have had some great responses. People have taken this seriously and have shared with me their passions, their commitment, their discipleship. It has been wonderful to read how people see God calling in their own life experience and to realize the breadth of the activity that is being lived out as people keep faith.

I know, I know, you want me to give you some examples now don’t you? One notes her good listening skills and that she often will keep in touch with someone who has shared a struggle, just to see how they are doing. Another spoke of his commitment to encouraging others, saying that people often need to hear a word of encouragement. Another spoke of building relationship with a son and working on a joint project to empower and support that parent-son relationship. Another spoke of a love of dance and how dance brought joy into her life and into the lives of others. One wrote of a deep commitment to nature and feeding and photographing birds thereby creating a symbiotic relationship with God’s creation. Oh such moving and profound responses.

So dear reader, what about you? How would you answer the HOMEWORK assignment? What is it you are especially good at and how are you using that gift or ability for God? I look forward to reading your comments.

I have been debating about writing this blog. I have started it several times and then stopped. I have second and third guessed myself. It is not my intent to turn this blog into a place for me to only share my angst. But, as you my faithful readers know, I’ve been going through some stuff (!) and so while this is from a personal place I have decided to offer this reflection as I think it might offer all readers insight and maybe some clues as to how to support and understand someone who is going through a season of grief.

First, let me tell you it is true. All those expressions that we use are rooted in truth. I do often walk around with a ‘lump in my throat’. I can literally feel a lump when I try to swallow back my grief. I can put on a good front but that lump in my throat reminds me that I am ‘chocking back my tears’, and there is another expression that is in our common speech based in the real experience. I do choke back my tears. Who wants to see someone blubbering all the time even if that is really what is going on? And then there is the ‘knot in my stomach’. Yep, sometimes when my mind gets away on me and my emotions are triggered I can feel my stomach knot and tense. The sayings are based on truth. To add to this, I am astounded at my lack of energy and how quickly I succumb to lethargy. I can’t focus on anything for very long. Reading a book – nope. Watching a tv show – it better be a good one or I am restless and clicking the dial to find something else. Angry – oh ya, got that happening at times I can’t explain. Sleeping – oh, I am constantly tired but I can’t turn out the light at night and then find it hard to wake in the morning.

Others who have been down this road before me tell me it is all normal. The self-help books and grief manuals reassure me that this is typical. Nonetheless it is not easy and I don’t like it. So what do I do? I set one goal a day and if I accomplish just that one thing it is a victory. I talk to friends. I talk to family. I tell people when I want to talk and when I don’t. I push myself … just a bit more … each day. But I also accept myself when I crash and burn. One friend, whose husband died far too young, wrote me the other day and said, “remember to let the memories come and accept them all – the good, the bad and the ugly.” There are good memories and there are ugly ones. There are good days and there are ugly ones. I do believe that grief is a slow and heavy journey.

One quote I like, and I don’t know who wrote it so apologies to the author, says, “I had my own notion of grief. I thought it was the sad time that followed the death of someone you love and you had to push through it to get to the other side. But, I am learning there is no other side. There is no pushing through. But rather, there is absorption. Adjustment. Acceptance. And grief is not something you complete, but rather, something you endure. Grief is not a task to finish and move on, but an element of yourself – an alteration of your being. A new way of seeing. A new definition of self.”

I am finding this to be true. One person asked, with surprise in his voice, “Are you still grieving?” I responded, “I think I will be grieving for the rest of my life. ” I know my grief will change and my perception of my loss will change but I have experienced the death of someone I loved with all my heart, it feels like I have lost a piece of myself, and that will not disappear, not even with the passage of time.

What can you do to support a friend? Be there. Write notes and send texts, sometimes actual verbal conversation is just too hard but to be reminded in gentle ways of the network of support is invaluable. Offer meals and don’t be surprised if the answer is no – sometimes that lump in the throat makes eating hard and sitting at table with others is too big a reminder of the emptiness of the table at home. Go to a movie together – to have the distraction is helpful and to not have to talk is sometimes easy and the comfort of companionship is healing. This one is hard … stay close and give space … put all your intuition to use and try to sense what the other needs without asking. Admit you don’t know what it feels like. Each person’s grief is their own and I am only the expert on what I am feeling and even there I am at a loss most of the time.

The final truth is that love heals and what is needed most is kindness, care and affirmation.