This Too Shall Pass But For Now It Is
November 6, 2009
My blog posts have been far and few between over the past three months. There was our vacation in mid-summer followed by my two surgeries followed by my mom’s death three weeks ago. There were times I didn’t post because I was delightfully busy with life, other times I was fuzzy-brained from pain medications and these days the silence has come from a season of personal sadness. I’m sad over the recent loss of my mom. I’m sad because a dear woman who D and I adore is in the last miles of her journey from this life to the next having fought a long battle against cancer with dignity, courage and a whole lot of sass. I’m sad because someone I’ve known all my life and loved just as long was recently diagnosed with ALS, a devastating disease that randomly invades people just like you and me, eventually taking every life it touches far too quickly and much too cruelly.
My mom died and now a dear friend is dying of cancer and in time a loved one will be robbed inch by inch of the ability to walk and speak and eat and breathe, and I’m powerless to stop any of it from happening and so I’m sad, the kind of sad that leaves me not knowing what to blog about because right now being gay isn’t all that important to me. Simply being human has my full attention. I don’t care all that much today that “the church” condemns me as a lesbian and I don’t have any energy to spare trying to convince them that God loves me just as I am as I know that God does. And in this moment my first concern isn’t that this country is clueless that marriage equality is simply a matter of justice and fairness or that much of the rhetoric that fuels the opposition is nothing less than a weapon leveled at the hearts of gay and lesbian people. These things will be of considerable importance to me on another day but right now my mind and my heart are absorbed in those I’ve lost and those I will lose, the fragile condition of being mortal flesh and blood beings on an equally fragile earth, and what I will do with my life in whatever time I’m given that will make some kind of difference in this world. All of this leaves me hungry for more silence in my life than for more words.
Loving God, having faith, and walking hand in hand with Jesus and God’s people didn’t make us immune or invulnerable to all that life encompasses. We will be sad. We will know pain. We will suffer. There are days when even the most holy among us will find their greatest comfort hiding out in bed with the covers over their head rather than on their knees in prayer, and there are days when tears and groanings of the heart speak more of being God’s own than all the words of faith and hope we can gather and dispense. God made us for joy and God made us for sorrow. Sweet and sour. Rain and sun. Light and dark. All are part of this life and all are a part of being human and being alive among others just like us.
So this is the place where I am right now and while it doesn’t feel all that great, it’s really okay. I cherish that there are people in my life who are so remarkable that the thought of losing them breaks my heart. I’m grateful for the reminder that life is so uncertain that tomorrow may never come so that I find more appreciation and purpose for this day and this hour.
I’m sad but I’m not paralyzed by it. Today I curled up in bed for the bigger part of the day and it was only when D returned home that I felt up to venturing into the world with her at my side. But Saturday is another day and so tomorrow I’ll sort through the magnificient abundance of the farmer’s market in the morning, make caramel apples in the afternoon, and finish the day at a spaghetti dinner among my church family. When Sunday comes I’ll continue on by assisting at the communion table before going to the bed of my friend later in the day to tell her how much she means to me, what her life is teaching me, and that I will always speak her name gratefully and tell of her faith and spirit and courage to those who never had the chance to know her for themselves. And then at night as I have in all the nights that will follow I’ll go to bed praying for my loved one with ALS, asking that God will grant comfort and that whatever the length of life would be that it would be a life filled with memories of love and grace that would linger on long after a final goodbye on this side of there.
And so….if this post finds you in your own time of sadness or if your heart is breaking or your tomorrow seems uncertain, you aren’t alone. I’m here with you. I suspect others are too. We’re together, you and I and us and them and God and together we’ll get through this time and until we do we’ll look for joy where we can find it because even here there is beauty. There is grace. There is love. There is hope. Even here. Even now.
Posted in Anita, Storytelling
November 6th, 2009 at 8:50 pm
Even when we are in the desert, God is there.
And when we emerge, God is there also.
As for blogging, I suppose it’s a little like that passage in Matthew about the lillies of the field and the birds of the air; don’t worry. We love you, and we’ll wait for when you’re ready to write again.
Peace be with you in this time of sadness.
November 7th, 2009 at 5:36 am
Amen! And thank you.
November 7th, 2009 at 5:40 am
Your heartfelt words touch me deeply this morning as I prepare for my weekend at my job. A quick check online to find out how everyone is doing and a prayer that this new day finds people experiencing the peace that passes understanding. A thought just before sleep came last night rather echoes what you have shared here today, Anita. I was listening to a speaker who was talking about eternity and a fleeting thought of, “But why are we here at all if this life must bring so much pain?” passed through my head. I don’t have an answer for the question, but I will be thinking about it. Maybe we are truly here to be Jesus with skin on to those people we meet on our journey. We can tell them “this too shall pass” and remind them to take our days on planet earth, “one day at a time”. Indeed His mercy is new every morning and His promise to never leave nor forsake us is true. I agree with you wholeheartedly when you speak of days when we just want to pull the covers over our heads and sing softly, “make the world go away”. I thank God for people like you who remind me that I am not travelling alone and I pray for you and yours this morning as I head out for the weekend. God’s best blessings to you and D, Anita for surely you bless my life on a daily basis. Thank you.
November 7th, 2009 at 7:48 am
Thank you for being honest and saying how you feel. As you say it will come to pass but for now is as it is.
November 7th, 2009 at 6:36 pm
Indeed the troubles of this life, for ourselves and others remind us of this frail and fleeting life on earth. May our imperfect world, press us deeper into God’s most perfect & endless love. As we encounter loss, pain, sorrow & death, we take courage in the reality of our Living HOPE, Christ Himself, He alone is our Anchor inside the veil. The storms of life rage, but He holds us ever so close.
The last eighteen months have been a similar valley, that I’m just emerging from, with my Mom’s failing health & gentle death, my nephew’s suicide, a dear friends sudden death–the only thing I could do was crawl into the warm embrace of God. Amidst my tears, His tender presence soothed my weary soul, bringing comfort. Indeed Christ’s death, resurrection & eternal life hold new meaning, granting new promise. The Hope of His love enabled me sing a sweet song of worship to the wonderful King of Kings, Holy, Holy, Holy, Is the Lord God Almighty Who was, and is, and is to come!
Burrow deep into Jesus’ bosom, take refuge in Him, as you let His unfailing love, mercy & grace cover YOU.
Thanks for sharing your heart with us.
November 7th, 2009 at 7:05 pm
I understand. Amen.
November 8th, 2009 at 8:38 am
Anita, as always yours words speak. Sometimes we just need the quiet compassion of Jesus and a select few. I hope you can feel the prayers of all of us surrounding you just as Jesus holds you for now. I think of that plaque I have – In the bitterness of life, we need the sweetness of God. May you find His sweetness.
November 8th, 2009 at 11:53 am
Anita, I love what your friend CDB wrote:
“Burrow deep into Jesus’ bosom, take refuge in Him, as you let His unfailing love, mercy & grace cover YOU. ”
I can’t say it any better than that. Some days that’s all we can do and it’s all we need to do to get through the tough times.
You who has given so much to others, I pray we can all give back to you.
May the grace of Christ be with you and D during these dark days.
Rest in Him,
Joan
November 8th, 2009 at 3:10 pm
Oh, Anita… I hear you. It’s a hard place to be in, and yet, we learn so much when we’re there.
I’m so very sorry about the ALS diagnosis. (A dear friend died of it in 2004.)
will be praying and thinking of you and yours throughout this time.
hugs,
me
November 9th, 2009 at 12:19 pm
In times such as this, this blog seems far less about any attempt on my part to give to others as being in a position to receive from others. To that end it feels like a quite selfish venture on my part. Thank you for giving so generously of yourselves in your encouragement. It means everything.
November 9th, 2009 at 12:55 pm
In times such as this, this blog seems far less about any attempt on my part to give to others as being in a position to receive from others. To that end it feels like a quite selfish venture on my part.
hardly “selfish,” Anita – you’re grappling with some very difficult things, and will be for a while. And – since you’re so gifted at encouraging others – maybe it’s time to allow us to do the same for you?
I’m grateful that you are my sister in Christ.
hugs (and de nada!),
e.
November 9th, 2009 at 12:57 pm
I’ll just add that you – and some others who post here – have given me a great deal of encouragement and love (not to mention prayers) during some dark and troubled times.
I’m more than happy to try (as best I can) to offer that in return.
November 10th, 2009 at 4:57 am
Beauty for ashes, and he will comfort those who mourn.
You’re in my prayers.
November 10th, 2009 at 5:25 am
Anita… thank you… and blessings and nourishing healing and renewal to you! You give so much even in your own place of need. May it be restored to you 10-fold.
Much love to you!
PS- my OR. Lutheran church I was a member of before I moved is now going through a rough time as the new pastor is trying to get them to leave the ELCA after the position the ELCA took on gays in the ministry. {sigh}… It’s not like it was when I was there and there was a much different pastor. However, I have used many of your posts on the “proof texts” to encourage members who want to be prepared for the discussion.
November 10th, 2009 at 3:24 pm
Dear Anita, I am so sorry that your mother has died. Such loss and sadness!! We only have one woman, and it is clear that part of who you are she taught you. All the graces and strenths needed to be a strong woman.
Prayers for you and all in poor health!!
November 11th, 2009 at 11:38 pm
Anita, my heart is so moved I have tears in my eyes. I lost my MIL to cancer last year and I know the depths of pain you can feel. I know the only reason I made it through was God’s mercy and grace. There are times I feel so overwhelmed and hurt, I envision myself as a child, being held in His lap, comforted and loved, calling him Abba, Daddy.
I pray for strength for you and your loved ones, for peace and God’s arms to hold you when you feel like you’re falling.
I’ve just found this site, thank you, I know this will be a blessing for me.
(((tender hugs)))
November 13th, 2009 at 4:11 pm
Anita,
Please know that you are still covered daily in our prayers and that we all understand that you need to have time to grieve. What we would like to do more than anything else is let you know that you and D are loved and it takes as long as it takes. Grief is different for every person. I don’t know of anyone who has escaped losing someone they dearly love.
Know we pray for you, D, your family, you friend who is nearing the end of this earthly journey as well as all the people you hold dear. I pray for your brothers and your sister and their families. For the one who has ALS I pray for peace and comfort and support from those who hold him dear. Unless one has walked the path, they can never totally understand.
So when you’re ready to write, we’ll read and respond and when you are not up to writing, we know you’re dealing and that’s ok.
Blessings, peace and (((((((((((((((gentle hugs)))))))))))))) to you and D.
Bev
November 21st, 2009 at 10:15 am
All of you have been, as always, so generous in your kindness and thoughtfulness toward me during this time. I really am doing quite well and am holding the emotions of missing my mom along with the joy of the season before us and that even in death, maybe especially in death, there’s something so profoundly sacred and holy to be discovered. The vulnerability of our own mortal bodies reminds us all the more of the immortality of the spirit that exists within all of us and will forever remain in union with God. It’s a good thing
And again, you’re truly good people. Thank you!