It is often difficult to find the blessings in one's grief, but one blessing that emerges is that our own grief calls us to be more compassionate toward others who are hurting.
Marva Dawn wrote a poem to a family that blessed her with compassionate understanding. It is entitled "With Gratitude."
You said,
"Call us, any time you need us,"
and I felt at home in your words,
I poured out my grief,
and you hugged me.
I told you my fears,
and you prayed that I would sleep protected.
I expressed my confusion,
and you helped me sort out the parts.
I tried to face my ugly self,
and you kept on caring.
I gave you my pain, and you gave me a kiss.
How can I thank you?
How do I express this awareness
that I have found a home in your love,
that I have been adopted in your grace?
It is like the Resurrection, promising life
and healing and hilarity.
It is just that Easter is incarnated in your care.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Disaster, Destruction, Devastation, Death
The earthquake in Haiti on January 12 brings one emotional aftershock after another. The images streaming across the television are earth shattering-mothers screaming for their babies, children wandering helplessly, the dead laying in the street,buried under ruble, piled in mass graves.
The devastation became personal with the news that one body buried in the ruble was Ben Larson, who was a shy little boy with melt your heart eyes when I met him at the age of 5. With the blink of an eye he grew up to be a passionate, joy-filled, young man who sought to serve his loving God by accompaniment with those Jesus chose to hang out with; the poor, the disenfranchised and the excluded. His life flowed on with endless song as he sang God's Good News into the hearts of all.
Ben, a senior seminarian at Wartburg Theological Seminary, traveled with his wife, Renee, and his cousin, Johnathan, to Haiti to learn and walk with the people of the Eglise Lutherienne d'Haiti (Evangelical Lutheran Church in Haiti). All three were in trapped in the ruble of the earthquake. Renee and Johnathan escaped and heard Ben singing God's praises as he died.
My mother's heart weeps with Ben's parents, Judd and April, and aches for Ben's sisters, Katie and Amy, who have lost the ability to create more memories of their brother and whose children will not be able to bask in the playful spirit of their Uncle Ben. Renee's pain with all the hopes and dreams of young love is beyond my comprehension.
Both Ben's passion for walking in accompaniment with the poor and his death, call me to accompany the people of Haiti through the process of rebuilding and it also renews my passion to accompany those who are grieving. Both the people of Haiti and Ben's family are in the life long process of rebuilding their lives, lives that are forever changed. They need people to walk along side them, to sit with them on the mourner's bench, to bring God's love in the flesh.
The devastation became personal with the news that one body buried in the ruble was Ben Larson, who was a shy little boy with melt your heart eyes when I met him at the age of 5. With the blink of an eye he grew up to be a passionate, joy-filled, young man who sought to serve his loving God by accompaniment with those Jesus chose to hang out with; the poor, the disenfranchised and the excluded. His life flowed on with endless song as he sang God's Good News into the hearts of all.
Ben, a senior seminarian at Wartburg Theological Seminary, traveled with his wife, Renee, and his cousin, Johnathan, to Haiti to learn and walk with the people of the Eglise Lutherienne d'Haiti (Evangelical Lutheran Church in Haiti). All three were in trapped in the ruble of the earthquake. Renee and Johnathan escaped and heard Ben singing God's praises as he died.
My mother's heart weeps with Ben's parents, Judd and April, and aches for Ben's sisters, Katie and Amy, who have lost the ability to create more memories of their brother and whose children will not be able to bask in the playful spirit of their Uncle Ben. Renee's pain with all the hopes and dreams of young love is beyond my comprehension.
Both Ben's passion for walking in accompaniment with the poor and his death, call me to accompany the people of Haiti through the process of rebuilding and it also renews my passion to accompany those who are grieving. Both the people of Haiti and Ben's family are in the life long process of rebuilding their lives, lives that are forever changed. They need people to walk along side them, to sit with them on the mourner's bench, to bring God's love in the flesh.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Death Revisited
It has been 5 years ago today that I got the call that my brother died in a plane crash. It feels like it is yesterday. Conversations, experiences, emotions replay like an old 8 track tape. Raw pain is like an unwanted guest knocking at my door. I expected murmurings of grief, but the rawness renewed caught me unprepared. It feels like a Minnsota winter wind chill without a coat-a chill that goes bone deep with a bite that lingers.
Once again I turn to Psalms of Lament by Ann Weems. She captures the long night I experienced as death revisited the door of my heart.
Lament Psalm Sixteen
O God, will this night never end?
Give me sleep, O God!
Give me rest!
Erase from my memory
the moments of his death.
Blot out the terror
and the ever-present fear
and let me sleep.
I lie upon this bed
tortured by thoughts
that come unbidden.
The night is full of demons.
They stand uon my heart
until I cannot breathe.
There is nothing in my world
this night except his death.
O God, bring the morning light.
Is it not enough
that he is dead?
That there is nothing
I can do
to change what is?
Must I spend each night
revisiting the unlit
corridors of death?
O God, be merciful!
Bring the dawn!
Come into this night
and tear it into day!
Once again I turn to Psalms of Lament by Ann Weems. She captures the long night I experienced as death revisited the door of my heart.
Lament Psalm Sixteen
O God, will this night never end?
Give me sleep, O God!
Give me rest!
Erase from my memory
the moments of his death.
Blot out the terror
and the ever-present fear
and let me sleep.
I lie upon this bed
tortured by thoughts
that come unbidden.
The night is full of demons.
They stand uon my heart
until I cannot breathe.
There is nothing in my world
this night except his death.
O God, bring the morning light.
Is it not enough
that he is dead?
That there is nothing
I can do
to change what is?
Must I spend each night
revisiting the unlit
corridors of death?
O God, be merciful!
Bring the dawn!
Come into this night
and tear it into day!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Another year of grief
On Monday, January 11, it will be five years since my brother died.
A poem from Cathedrals of the Heart will mark my loss,and his
life.
NOTHING IS THE SAME
Nothing is the same.
Thoughts of heaven, eternity are heavy on my mind.
Dying is a new image
front and center,
very personal.
My equillibrium has come unglued.
when out of balance,
how do I stand?
where do I stand?
with whom do I stand?
where do I take refuge?
Thoughts take me everywhere and nowhere.
Flashbacks, dreams and visions exhaust me,
stir me, propel me.
New reality seems to emerge.
Worlds pass through my mouth before my brain.
I miss him so. Everything everywerhe seems empty.
Can anything be rational at this moment?
I wait for peace and balance.
It's a time to celebrate memories and mourn losses.
A time for emotion to settle.
A time to place one foot in front of the other,
step by step.
Emptiness is deep and dark.
Each day is a year.
A poem from Cathedrals of the Heart will mark my loss,and his
life.
NOTHING IS THE SAME
Nothing is the same.
Thoughts of heaven, eternity are heavy on my mind.
Dying is a new image
front and center,
very personal.
My equillibrium has come unglued.
when out of balance,
how do I stand?
where do I stand?
with whom do I stand?
where do I take refuge?
Thoughts take me everywhere and nowhere.
Flashbacks, dreams and visions exhaust me,
stir me, propel me.
New reality seems to emerge.
Worlds pass through my mouth before my brain.
I miss him so. Everything everywerhe seems empty.
Can anything be rational at this moment?
I wait for peace and balance.
It's a time to celebrate memories and mourn losses.
A time for emotion to settle.
A time to place one foot in front of the other,
step by step.
Emptiness is deep and dark.
Each day is a year.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Ann Weems' Psalms of Lament
Ann Weem's Psalms of Lament is a powerful book of personal psalms that Weems wrote in response to her son's death. She speaks to God of the depth of her pain. Here is an example:
O God, even my friends
bring me books
with ten steps
to overcome grief
as though healing
comes in paperback,
and filling my times
with one-two-threes
will bring peace
to my soul
and energy to my body.
Why don't they try
to understand?
The worst of all
are those who say
I must accept his death
as though his death
is acceptable.
No!
His death is unacceptable~
And I will not be comforted!
In my suffering
I m told I must
grieve correctly.
O merciful God!
What are they doing?
Aren't we supposed
to go to you
with our tears?
Isn't it in your word
that we will be
comforted?
I come to you, Holy One,
for I know
my salvation
is not in "coping,"
but is in hope,
hope that comes
only from you.
O God, in your time
the scales will fall
from my heart
and I will see again,
and seeing, I will fall
to my knees
in thanksgiving
to you, O Gracious One,
only to you.
O God, even my friends
bring me books
with ten steps
to overcome grief
as though healing
comes in paperback,
and filling my times
with one-two-threes
will bring peace
to my soul
and energy to my body.
Why don't they try
to understand?
The worst of all
are those who say
I must accept his death
as though his death
is acceptable.
No!
His death is unacceptable~
And I will not be comforted!
In my suffering
I m told I must
grieve correctly.
O merciful God!
What are they doing?
Aren't we supposed
to go to you
with our tears?
Isn't it in your word
that we will be
comforted?
I come to you, Holy One,
for I know
my salvation
is not in "coping,"
but is in hope,
hope that comes
only from you.
O God, in your time
the scales will fall
from my heart
and I will see again,
and seeing, I will fall
to my knees
in thanksgiving
to you, O Gracious One,
only to you.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Cherish the memories
Grief is an act of remembering.
Sometimes the memories bring tears, sometimes the memories bring a smile and sometimes the memories even bring laughter. But, it doesn’t matter if the memories bring a chuckle or a sob, we still cherish the memories. To cherish the memories is to cherish the love. Remembering is our work as those who grieve, to remember, to never forget. That is our joy even in the midst of great sorrow; our joy is to hang onto the life that we shared, to keep the person alive in our hearts by remembering.
Grief calls us to remember, but it also calls us to reflect. Grief invites us to reflect on how our lives and the world was different because of the person we loved. Each person we remember was unique and left a unique impact on the world. No one saw the world just the way your loved one saw it. No one touched the world with his or her words and actions just the way your loved one did. No one can impact your life in the same way as your loved one did.
As we reflect on how the world is different because of that special person in our lives, we also reflect on how your world is different without the one you love.
The pain of grief is that our lives have changed with the death of a loved one, changed forever. Life can never be the same without our partner, child, sibling, parent, friend.
But that change calls us to reflect on the legacy that our loved ones have taught us. What was the essence of your loved one? Was it love? Was it faith? Was it devotion to family? Was it love of life? Was it service to others? What was the most important thing for them? What are the qualities in your loved one that you most admired and want to carry with you in your life?
Grief calls us to remember and to reflect and it also calls us to live. Grief teaches us that life is short and relationships are precious. So as you remember your loved one, live. Cherish the moments you have and the people you love. Live life to the fullest in a way that honors your loved one’s memory. So as you reflect on the mark your loved one left on you and on the world, live. Live life to the fullest in a way that will leave a mark on those you love and on the world. Remember, reflect and live.
Sometimes the memories bring tears, sometimes the memories bring a smile and sometimes the memories even bring laughter. But, it doesn’t matter if the memories bring a chuckle or a sob, we still cherish the memories. To cherish the memories is to cherish the love. Remembering is our work as those who grieve, to remember, to never forget. That is our joy even in the midst of great sorrow; our joy is to hang onto the life that we shared, to keep the person alive in our hearts by remembering.
Grief calls us to remember, but it also calls us to reflect. Grief invites us to reflect on how our lives and the world was different because of the person we loved. Each person we remember was unique and left a unique impact on the world. No one saw the world just the way your loved one saw it. No one touched the world with his or her words and actions just the way your loved one did. No one can impact your life in the same way as your loved one did.
As we reflect on how the world is different because of that special person in our lives, we also reflect on how your world is different without the one you love.
The pain of grief is that our lives have changed with the death of a loved one, changed forever. Life can never be the same without our partner, child, sibling, parent, friend.
But that change calls us to reflect on the legacy that our loved ones have taught us. What was the essence of your loved one? Was it love? Was it faith? Was it devotion to family? Was it love of life? Was it service to others? What was the most important thing for them? What are the qualities in your loved one that you most admired and want to carry with you in your life?
Grief calls us to remember and to reflect and it also calls us to live. Grief teaches us that life is short and relationships are precious. So as you remember your loved one, live. Cherish the moments you have and the people you love. Live life to the fullest in a way that honors your loved one’s memory. So as you reflect on the mark your loved one left on you and on the world, live. Live life to the fullest in a way that will leave a mark on those you love and on the world. Remember, reflect and live.
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