I am reminded again of how fragile our lives are. I listened to Oprah interview Joan Chittister today. A number of things that were said struck me. At one point Chittister noted that writing is meditation. So I need to come to these pages to “meditate.”
To meditate on gratitude for life and what it brings – to sit with the losses and uncertainties; to know the fragility. I need to continue to meditate on my place in this life and its losses – how to be; what to do.
One of the men with whom I have been privileged to work over the last couple of years called me a week ago to tell me his son’s mother had died. No longer his wife, but his son’s mother, and yet… Compassion and pain for his son and his son’s profound loss; reminder that this woman was someone with whom at one time he had wanted to share his life. Reminder of the damages done by life choices and yet some level of healing.
I always said of my own mother’s death, if there had been more time there would have been more healing. Gratitude for what is; knowing that the process remains just that, a process, a continued “growing up.”
And then the text from my brother talking about a severe medical situation being experienced by one of my grand-nieces. Losses and uncertainties. I live with awareness of the part I play in sparseness of relationship with members of my family. Yet they are family and it matters. She matters.
Chittister talked about compassion, acting “with passion.” About what am I passionate? Where is my compassion focused? It is clear that there is evidence that I have a passion for the poor, homeless, and underserved and have chosen to give my time and energy to engaging with them and nurturing others who serve them. This is good. I am grateful.
There was a time in my life I was unsure I was capable of loving anyone. It is profound gift when my heart is broken and captured by the need and pain in front of me. I am grateful to be able to love
This member of my family? Distance is more than physical. What brings us close to someone to feel passionate about their need and pain? What creates the barriers? It is easy of me to critique those in Washington who say they represent me and yet overtly act in ways that continue to bring destruction and pain on some of the most vulnerable.
This meditation requires that I also critique myself. I embrace the grace in my life that has opened my heart enabling me to do much good. I am better than I used to be. I am not where I want to be. There is the scripture that reminds that the one who has started this good work in me will continue until it is complete. I am grateful.
But there is a grand-niece who has been/is in a life threatening place with her health. How does compassion, my compassion extend to her. What does that look like? What does it look like in a practical way? I have often said that “powerlessness” is one of my least favorite feelings. She is at a physical distance. That is reality. And it probably would not do much if I were to drop what I am living here to go there. But that it matters, bridges distance.
At least this may be an invitation to more actively extend caring and relationship across the distance. I had no regrets when my mother died; I knew that we had worked on our relationship, there had been much healing, and if she had lived longer there would have been more. I listened to this man in my office recognize that he and his son’s mother had experienced some level of reconciliation and he was able to be open and available to his son’s grief. Part of grace is that there continues to be invitation to come closer. I am grateful.
To the one who is dearest to me I often say, “I am not sure I know how to love but I am grateful that I can learn how to love with you.” To Holly and others in my family I would also say that I am grateful that I can continue to learn to love with them; that I continue to grow up; that the one who has started this work in me and in us will not cease until it is complete. I count on the One who loves all of us more than we can ever know and holds us in this world and after.
Chaplainesque's Blog 