Things Fall Apart

I've started attending church again. I haven't regularly attended church since Katie was admitted to the hospital in October of 2006...not because I was mad at God, but because I couldn't stand the crowds of people, nor contain my emotions during worship. I've been known to cry uncontrollably in church, which is distracting and distressing to me (and perhaps to others). But I've found a church that doesn't evoke floods of tears, and am enjoying it.

It's possible that I "should" go back to my old church, and simply surrender to my grief; let the tears come as I re-enter that place where we were once so happy, so much a part of things, held in great love. However, I haven't felt drawn to do so, and I'm going to honor that.

The homily in today's service touched on Jesus' prophecy that things were going to get very hot, very bad for his disciples. He spoke of catastrophe, betrayals, destruction, trials and the coming need to verbally give account, or defend the faith. He told his disciples that some of them would be killed, but then said "not a hair of your head will be harmed." What? How can both of those truths coexist? Apparently, he was speaking poetically about those precious hairs.

Every time I hear such words nowadays, I hear them through the filter of what happened to Katie and to our family. It's not an intellectual exercise; it just happens - I can't not go there. All stories that involve things falling apart, ground breaking up underfoot, loss, disaster - anything that brings to mind the end of the world as we know it - reminds me of the year of Katie's illness and death. I always ask myself if these things are true, in light of my own experience. It makes church very interesting.

The privilege of sharing the Eucharist on a quiet Sunday morning is important to me. I love that ritual, and its deep symbolic and literal meaning. It is a tiny feast, a weekly "Thanksgiving" meal, where all are welcome; it is purifying, nourishing and comforting.

In his homily, the pastor also asked us where we go - to whom do we turn - when things fall apart. He gave us his own answer, which was a bit surprising - and it made me think.

To whom do I turn? 

The "right" answer would be "to God," but I'm not sure that's completely true - at least, it's not that simple or direct. I turn inward, at first, when the ground is pulled out from under my feet. I take stock - do a quick assessment - of what has happened, what I have and what I have lost.

I turn to God, yes, but I also turn to those closest to me - my family. That's where we turned when Katie got sick - to the solidarity of one another's love and care - as well as to our home community, the larger community of Seattle Children's Hospital, our church and Ronald McDonald House. God was (is) present in all of those people and entities. He showed His love and presence through their love and caring.

After sitting in church with two of my friends (both of them bereaved parents), I drove home and felt grateful and privileged to be able to worship, as well as to have been able to go on a date on Saturday with my husband. We hiked for a few miles on a trail that is new to us, looked at beautiful wooden boats in a marina, boats on the ways (in all states of repair/disrepair), and then we moseyed through the Victorian town, admiring the architecture. Finally, we stopped at a pub for a light meal and a beer, and then finished our date at the local ice cream/candy shop. It was lovely.

We have lost a great deal, but we have not lost everything (as some of the victims of the typhoon in the Philippines have). But our loss touches everything; everything was (and is) affected by it. Nothing - not one thing - is as it was before Katie got sick and died, leaving our family to go on with three of us here, and one there.

There is a part of me that will always see my life through the lens of "things falling apart." In the six years since Katie's passing, I have adjusted to seeing life through the eyes of a woman who lives with three people in one room at Ronald McDonald House.

I am still that woman: the one who takes a walk each day to let off steam; who runs to the 5th floor of the hospital in her pajamas to shower before her daughter wakes up; who steals a couple of hours a week to spend alone with her husband, trying to preserve her marriage under intense stress; one who shares one bathroom with a minimum of three other people; one who has become a nurse, juggling medical supplies, helping her sick child to walk where she doesn't want to go, pushing a wheelchair, knowing her healthy child is not getting the attention he deserves, but unable to be in two places at once.

Though the conditions of my life have changed, I still see the world through that woman's eyes.

I continue to be amazed that we can go anywhere we'd like on a date, taking as much time as we wish, ordering whatever sounds good. It is such a privilege. While I might have previously thought (in my ignorance) that I "deserved" such abundance, now I know that it is all gift, and that it can come - and go - at any time. Jesus predicted it in his day, and it is still obviously true - friends will betray, disasters will happen, what we thought we could control slips through our hands. Though I have been given much, much has been required of me. Any time at all, anything can happen...and it's interesting that, rather than frightening me, this knowledge makes me grateful for everything I have, and for everything I have had to let go.

What an appropriate message for the week of Thanksgiving, and of David's 21st birthday.

"God Hugs You"

"God hugs you.
You are encircled by the arms
of the mystery of God." 

 - Hildegarde of Bingen

I am reading a book by Beth Moore called "JOHN: 90 days with the Beloved Disciple." It is a large book (440 beautiful, thick, cream-colored pages with deckle edges), and is part textbook and part journal. I am loving the study.

John is one of my favorite disciples, because of the way he saw and understood Jesus and Our Father. This book takes me deep into a sort of lectio divina process each day, entering the Biblical scenes with the disciples and imagining what it was like for them to walk with Jesus, listen to him and learn from him. There is a short scriptural reading for each day, a reflection on the scripture passage and a couple of journaling and/or prayer prompts.

The message of LOVE comes through this book loudly and clearly. As is often the case with any daily devotional practice, I frequently feel as if the reading was specifically written for ME that day. What an intimate and blessed feeling that is. The scriptural passage was from John 21: 15 - 23. I enjoy reading parallel versions, especially in The Message and The Amplified Bible.

Today's reading and reflections were helpful, discussing Jesus' repetition of the question, "Do you love me?" to Peter. I was blessed by Beth's reflections, especially words such as these:
"We might feed the sheep or serve the flock based on other motivations for a while, but only one thing will compel us to follow the Lord Jesus Christ faithfully to the death: love!...Only love will keep burning when everything else disintegrates into an ashen heap. Pray for this one thing more than you pray for your next breath. I am convinced love is everything.
     "But I wasn't the first one convinced. I simply follow a long line of believers who failed their way into the discovery that love is the highest priority and motivating force in the entire life of faith...
     "Beloved, over and over Jesus tells us, 'You can trust Me!' In this scene He is saying to His present-day disciples, 'You can trust Me with you, and you can trust Me with them. I am the same God to all of you, but I have a different plan for each of you. You won't miss it if you keep following. Remember, I've been a carpenter by trade. Custom blueprints are My specialty. God's glory is My goal. Now fill your canteen to the brim with love and follow Me.' " (pages 107 - 109)

What precious encouragement in difficult times, confusing times, painful times, uncertain times, in-between, liminal times. I thank God for Jesus, and for faithful mentors, writers, saints and apostles who inspire and teach us, remind us of what is true, and breathe freshness onto our path.