New Beginnings

Today, I met a sister face to face, who I met on a clergy discussion board. Her congregation is located in Southern California, and although it has been in the same place for many years, they are in a process of revisioning, which will most likely include selling the property and moving to another location, in order to allow another group move in, who can reach out to the changing neighborhood more effectively.

It is posing some important questions for them as they seek to move forward and seek God's Spirit to guide them and direct them to the next steps for them. After discussions with Pam, and some of her congregation members, we took a look at the reality of needing to grieve before they can truly move on.

My supervisor in Clinical Pastoral Education, (CPE) spoke of grief as being more than just the loss, but what that loss symbolizes for these beautiful people of God. It is the loss of the place where the sacred activities of their lives have taken place; the weddings, the baptisms, the weekly worship, the sacrament of the eucharist, the celebrations of the resurrection when those in their midst died.

It was such an honor to be with them this morning, and to be asked to give them a benediction. Beyond reminding them that they are not alone in this journey, and that there are a group of Desperate preachers who are praying for them, it was the reminder of Abraham who was called to move to a land that he didn't know, and the promise that God was with them, and would give them the direction for their next steps. I encouraged them to seek this new beginning with a sense of expectation for what God will do, but we discovered over ice cream sundaes, that they are grieving, and before they can move on with expectation, they need to grieve.

But, here is the benediction I left with them: "As you go, may God go before you to show you the way, above you to watch over you, beside you to befriend you, and within you to give you peace."

Shalom.

"Slow Dance"

"Slow Dance"


Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round ,
Or listened to the rainslapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight,
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down
Don't dance so fast,
Time is short, The music won't last.

Do you run through each day on the fly?
When you ask "How are you?"do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed,
With the next hundred chores running through your head?
You'd better slow down Don't dance so fast,
Time is short The music won't last

Ever told your child,We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,Let a good friendship die?
'Cause you never had timeto call and say "Hi"?
You'd better slow down,
Don't dance so fast,
Time is shortThe music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere,
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....Thrown away...
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower,
Hear the music,
Before the song is over.

Credited to David L. Weatherford
http://www.davidlweatherford.com/

Tom

As I was at work and doing a graveside service for one of my patients, It dawned on me that it is the 7th anniversary of my brother's sudden death. He died suddenly of a heart attack at the young age of 46. It's funny how we can get up in the morning and go through our day, and not think of something like that until we see the date, and it jogs the memory. So, I am pensive. Not particularly sad, but pensive, thinking, remembering. We went and put some flowers at his nitche, and talked a little about how unbelieveable it is that he has been gone for 7 years. In some ways it seems like an eternity, and in others it seems like yesterday.

My clinical pastoral education supervisor talked about grief being more than just the sadness of a loss of that person, but also what that person symbolized to us. I have given that great thought through the last 7 years. Tom shared my DNA, like no one else in the world. We shared the life experiences and didn't have to explain to each other. It's especially poignant these days as I am now an only child, caring for elderly parents. We would have been partners in this journey that is often challenging.

But he was a gifted builder, artistic, musical, a great friend, funny. And much, much more.
I do miss him.

A Mother's Wish

One of my patients died this last Sat. She had three children, all of whom were adopted. She was the glue that held her family together, and as often happens in families, the siblings weren't getting along too well. One daughter, who was a nurse, single and lived closest to her mom, was the primary caregiver, at great sacrifice to herself. The other two children lived on opposite ends of the state, and came in as often as possible, to help out and provide care.

This Mother's greatest wish was that she wanted her children to continue to be a family after she died. It was very important to her. She held on for awhile longer than expected to see if they would come together. Sat. morning, the two sisters called their brother at his home and said he should probably come up as it was getting close. He got in his car right away and drove up to his mom's home. Our patient had been told that he was on his way. 30 minutes after he arrived, this mom looked up at her three children who were all standing there together, with their arms around each other, and she took her last breath. Her wish had been granted.

When I arrived, I had a long conversation with her son who relayed that he had not been told of his adoption until he was an adult. He learned about it while dealing with his father's estate, and found the adoption papers for each of the children. Although it was difficult to learn about it that way, he discussed it with his mom, and had some issues of anger and betrayal that he had to work through. But then, he searched for his natural mom, who he learned was an alcoholic and that he was the eldest of 10 children, all of whom had drug and alcohol issues. He stood in awe at how he had been so blessed, completely by grace, to have been removed from that family and raised in his family where he had many opportunities, and a healthy and happy life. The glue that had brought this family together in the first place, by adoption, had the fear that at her passing, they would separate, saw, and most importantly, her children saw, that there was so much more to being a family than genetics. A Mother's wish was granted.

The gift that this son had, was that he could see the providence in his being adopted, and see that it was by grace that he had been plucked from one family and placed in another. And deep within his soul he had a sense of belonging.

Truly a gift of grace.

Susan