Interesting train ride, this grief thing is. This weekend the girls and I went on our annual All Church Retreat. Its something that we have done on and off, more on than off, for several years. Mom did not go for the past couple of years, so going on the retreat this year was not as hard as you might imagine. The retreat did, however, shine a light on grief that I guess I had been trying to cover. And I did gain some new perspective that was comforting. All my life, even though Ive lived over half my life without him, Ive considered myself a Daddys girl. Moving on now without my mom has shown me that yes, I was a Daddys girl, but I am also my Mothers daughter. And for me that means that yes, I believe in God (Daddy), but boy do I have questions (Mother). Hold on here, because this is about as preachy as you are ever likely to hear me be. Im also about to be really honest. On any given day, Im not sure if I believe that there is a God. On any given day, I am completely sure that there is a God. And on any given day, Im very confused. So, what does this have to do with grief, the All Church Retreat, and my Mother? This weekend the study was about The Beatitudes, The Sermon on the Mount. Ill confess right up front that I did not go to all of the sessions. I spent much time on the porch in the rocking chairs talking with friends, taking walks and enjoying the (albeit rainy) mountain air. I did however, go to the session this morning. Ive heard the Beatitudes my whole life, but this time something that was said was different, or it rang differently for me. That Beatitude about sorrow? Blessed are the ones who mourn... First I thought Im finished being blessed, no more blessing please, I would rather not mourn for a while. Here is where my questions and arguments kicked in, because really, who wants to be blessed by mourning. For the birds I thought. I know that God did not create the cancer that took Mother, or Daddys, life. People die, it happens. But really, couldnt we come up with a happier way to be blessed? But the lesson went on to elaborate about no matter how low our spirits got, God would fill us up to the top. The less of us, the more of Him. I started wondering how in the world would God fill me up? There was nothing that could be done but to just sludge through the grief until time helped ease it up a bit. Then I began to think about all of the conversations I had had over the weekend. About the life moments shared in the rocking chairs, about the laughs, about the tears, about the stories shared about our selves and children and families. A lot of the sharing was messy; not pretty stuff. I began thinking about this extended family, this Church family, the one who, despite her own questions, my Mother was insistent we have and we actively pursue. Church is community Donna. These are the people who will laugh with you, love with you and cry with you. You may not always like them, they may not always like you, you most certainly will not always agree, but they are important. And there I found it. In my mothers words, in my fathers faith and in the arms of my Church family, I found that the low part of me was filled to the top with the best part of God. It was humbling to realize how much we are loved. And so today, I set aside my questions and my doubts and just was. It was a good place to be. Thank you too, Team Lala family, as you too have helped all along, to fill up our spirits and to fulfill a promise of the Beatitudes.
Posted on: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 00:06:10 +0000
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