tuesday
Hello friends.
I am still on my summer break but felt the need to sit and write a few words.
My birthday was this week and happened to fall eight days after my Dad’s memorial service. I am learning how often we life travelers experience joy and sorrow, all mixed-up and interwoven into our moments.
I wanted to share two things with you. Two small tidbits to drop into the toolbox we all have been assembling as we continue to traverse this challenging passage of time.
The memorial service was held at my parent’s church, the church my brother and I grew up in, and where I was married. The photo above shows one of the stained glass windows depicting the rolling hills of the Palouse. We chose to gather in the morning because, in August, the heat and windows can create a holy greenhouse. However, on Tuesday, the appointed day, we awoke to rain. After such an unbearably hot summer this was such a loving offering.
None of us who had journeyed to this place were prepared for colder and wet weather. I packed neither a pair of socks or any clothing that extended below my biceps or knees.
As much as I plot and strive, I am rarely fully prepared for what enters my life.
I am learning this fact of life is okay.
I will be okay.
We will be okay.
I have possessed many moods over the last year and a half.
Let’s just say, I am so glad to be loved and loved well by those who love or live with me.
As we approached the service, I was not doing well.
I was nervous to speak.
I was overwhelmed with a deepening of the reality of our loss.
I didn’t know how to be or reside in this newly formed space.
Carl tenderly advised me to ask God for one thing I wanted over the next couple of days.
While tossing and turning through the night, I took Carl’s advice and asked God to help me to be present and to stay present.
I wanted my whole self to inhabit the service and not be completely consumed by getting past my turn to arise and speak.
This was one of the best prayers I could have prayed. On that Tuesday morning, as much as I could possibly be, I was present.
I am whispering to you is to stay present during this time.
It’s hard.
Decisions are being demanded a mile a minute. Sometimes it’s hard to know which lane to pick and the potential of relational fallout.
It is exhausting.
Fatigue can make us easy prey for numbing or checking out, waiting to be nudged awake when the pandemic is over.
It’s important to stay alert, engaged, and on the lookout for patches of goodness and hope to be found hiding in the rubble. Sometimes it’s as simple and scarce as rain.
For the last few years, I have chosen a word on my birthday to guide me over the next 365 days.
For my 57th year, I have chosen the word “present”.
Be present.
I have noticed how tender my mind and heart have remained.
I can easily become bent out of shape by someone eating the last of a snack I had eyed or hurt by poorly chosen words or intentions. Seemingly overnight, there are landmines that have been erected and scattered throughout my heart.
Maybe you feel the same way.
The second whisper I want to share is my adopted mantra of the last several months.
“God bless ________. She/He is doing the best she/he can.
It’s a statement of fact as well as a hushed prayer.
Sometimes, it is spoken through gritted teeth.
It is true.
We are all doing the very best we can.
We need to believe it no matter what we carry.
We can’t possibly know what has been thrust upon someone else’s lap or what newly added weight they must bear.
These ten words have been my companion even on days when I must murmur with a sigh:
God bless Helen. She is doing the best she can.
Amen.
The northwest is experiencing drought conditions.
Perhaps your soul may be feeling the same.
I read one of my favorite psalms on the morning of my birthday.
May it be a solid reminder today and every day.
Psalm 63: 1-8 (NRSV)
O God, you are my God, I seek you,
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands and call on your name.
My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast,
and my mouth praises you with joyful lips
when I think of you on my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings, I sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
