Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts

Thursday, February 27, 2020

sanctuary


there is no sanctuary more lovely
than the beauty i see in your heart
let your eyes be my windows
let me see the world through your colors
let me remain here in you
renewed in the stillness
strengthened by the quiet
my life in your life
your life in all life
the life of my beloved

here the Word is sung
hear the soft melody
soothing the soul
receive my prayer
crying mercy
comfort in grief
here in this place
here in your heart
my loss is your gain

these burdens i leave with you
laying myself at your altar
resting in grace
as dust settling
resting in peace


………………………….


sanctuary
by troy cady
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Wednesday, April 11, 2018

everyone suffers loss


Everyone suffers loss:
work and health,
relationships and security,
certainty.

Loss often strips us of joy.
Sometimes loss makes us feel powerless.
It raises frustration.
Feelings of futility may surface
and seem to control.
Anger and sorrow commingle.
Something’s amiss.

Everyone suffers loss.
Most people you meet
are just trying to find their way in life
as best they know how.
Every day is a day to show mercy.
Every day is a day to offer grace.
Every day is a day to listen well.
Every day is a day to remember
there’s more than meets the eye going on.
Every day is a day to be the friend that’s gained
when someone is suffering loss.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

reflections on grief



I know several people who are experiencing some gut-wrenching grief these days. I’m trying to give them the gift of just paying attention to their grief—validating it and being with them in it…not trying to “fix” it. I’m not sure I’m doing such a good job at it, but as I pray for them, I’m trying to keep in mind what they appear to be feeling and thinking at various points. Their thoughts and feelings appear to me to change from day-to-day, hour-to-hour, even minute-to-minute. Confusion is the word that comes to mind. Existential chaos. As I try to put myself in their shoes (which I can’t) this is what I hear, if imperfectly:  

Something cherished and irreplaceable has been lost. How could life betray us so? How to make sense of the violent chaos of existence? How can the world at one time hold so much promise, hope—joy like the rhythm of the tide, a not unexpected ebb and flow—suddenly bring this tidal wave, a sea change of heartbreak whose tears could fill an ocean basin to overflowing? Who could have predicted the earthquake, this tragedy, this ground shifting under our feet?

Did you know, God? Did you know this would happen? If you did, where were you—and WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP IT!?

Blind-sided. That’s what we were. Blind-sided. And now we’re just…blind with tears.

My mother has lost her memory of me. She’s no longer home. Two months only. My father may pass any day now. He only has…maybe a few hours of lucidity left…and then at most a few days of just breathing...and we a few days of just praying the pain keeps at bay. My love isn’t herself anymore. I don’t know what I did. Did I do something to bring this on? I don’t think so, but I’m not sure of anything anymore. Was it all a lie? What do I do? Where do I turn? Do I remember happiness rightly? Was I ever happy? I feel dead, numb. I feel angry. I’m afraid. I feel betrayed, duped. I don’t want to be fooled again, but how can I ever be sure of anything anymore? Who can I trust? What should I do now? My son, my brother, my friend is gone. Just like that. No parent should outlive their child. So much promise! So much life! Gone. Just…gone. Let me collapse. Just let me fall. I can’t stand it. How is it I feel I can’t breathe? My stomach has risen to my throat and my heart sank to my gut. Why am I breathing like this? God, help me breathe. Fill these shallow lungs. Where is the wind now?

You left a hole that will never be filled—wait: Who am I talking to? You’re gone. Can I talk to a hole? I don’t think so. But I want to. Oh, my God, I want to talk to you. I want to hold you and smell your hair again. I want to hear you laugh again. I want to stroke your hand, listen to your voice.

Please say you are in these tears. So many tears, on my face, in my soul, so many tears. Please say you are there. I miss you. I hurt for you. I love you.

………………….


Father, I offer you these many griefs on behalf those I love who have lost so much. I have nothing to add but: Hear them! Carry them! Bear them on your shoulders, in your heart. Hear the cries they cannot put into words. And surround them with friends who can be with them in their pain as much as is possible. Do not leave them abandoned.


Sunday, August 4, 2013

grief and parable

A few months ago I paid a visit to Indianapolis and facilitated a meeting with a small group of Christians. During the meeting, one of the men was clearly in pain. So, we prayed for him.

Just weeks after that, doctors discovered that the pain in his leg was caused by a tumor. He did not have long to live. About a month later, he died.

About six weeks ago, some other friends had a baby. Nine days ago the mother died of cancer.

Yesterday, a friend went to the funeral of a co-worker who was murdered eight days ago and on Friday another friend’s sister just passed away in old age.

So, today I'd like to tell a story that helps me process this grief.

Head over to PlayFull to read on, if you like.