As I mentioned in my previous blog, we at Grace and Main lost a very dear member of our family Friday, June 14, 2013. I didn't know her as well as the others, and there was only one particular time that I spent an ample amount of time with her and really got to learn what she was about.
June 15 we were to have a Prayer Vigil in the garden behind her house. I was torn whether or not to go, as I did not know her that well. My fears were;
1. I didn't know her well, so if I go, I'm going to look like a ghoul, and that is not my scene.
2. If I don't go, I am going to look insensitive and non-compassionate, and that's not my scene either.
I asked my supervisor if I should go, and he said if I wanted to I could. I ended up going, and I'm so glad I did, because I was able to join in the community in a deeper way, I was able to offer what little comfort I had to those that wanted/needed it, and I too received comfort.
Yesterday, I called my "spiritual-advisor-thing" (that's your new title) at her bidding, and we chatted for awhile about what had happened, and how all of us Grace and Main-ers are dealing with it. I told her about my 2 aforementioned fears, and she said;
(memory paraphrase)
"As a minister, you always go to a funeral or memorial service. You're not going for the person who died, you're going for your own healing or to be there to comfort the ones you love. Never ask if you should be there. Go for the people you love, and be there for them."
When she said this, I was immediately pierced and thought-provoked-- "Me? A minister? Oh stop." But it's true. While I am by no means a Reverend or a pastor of a church, I am, in some awkward square shape or form, a minister. I practice "freelance ministry" among my peers, colleagues, and "clients" by finding the need and supplying it as I am able. This can be giving/receiving hugs, giving/receiving hospitality in many forms, listening to a complete stranger talk about being in prison for 7 years and not giving it a second thought or passive flinch...you name the kind, subtle deeds, it's freelance ministry.
L.'s funeral was today, and instead of me asking to go, I was asked if I wanted to go, to which I immediately said I would. No hesitation, after having that talk, and that quote continually running through my head and piercing my heart, I knew I had to go.
I won't give details about the funeral, but I am glad that I went. I got a little more closure for myself and what happened, and I was able to give warm hugs to the ones I love, and cry a little more.
Light it up,
LT
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
"Where there is sadness, Joy."
It started out like any Friday night should. I was riding in a car with 3 guys reaping havoc and tearing up Ben's car with a banana and water (sorry Ben!). We had just eaten out, and we were going to Food Lion to get snacks, and then to Ben and Mike's to reap further havoc. While we were standing around trying to decide what drinks to get, Mike gets a phone call. I heard him say, "Yeah, we will definitely be praying for the house..." or something to that effect. None of us had any idea or inclination of what he was going to tell us when he hung up the phone.
(This is a paraphrase of the best I can remember it):
"Hey guys...I have some...bad news. L. was hit by a car today, she was taken to the hospital, no one had seen her for a little while, and, ..." (I was thinking, Please say she's ok. Don't say she's dead). "...well, she died earlier..."
The whole atmosphere instantly changed as we switched from joyous havoc reapers to sullen, grief-stricken bodies. We all stood there, trying to make sense of what was just said to us. I didn't know her as well as the others, but I had just worked with her and got to know her a little over the past 10 days, but especially on Wednesday.
Every Wednesday L. and Bruce prepare breakfast to give out to the people who live on the North Side, and this particular Wednesday I joined her and Bread-Mike to prepare the plates and hand them out to whoever wanted them. L. wanted so bad to at least reach their goal, which I think was 42 plates? Every time people came to us wanting plates, she would eagerly rush inside to prepare them, and I would either hang around outside, or I would saunter in after her to help make them. (Note this, I am a natural saunter-er. It is not necessarily because I don't like what I'm doing..it's just what I do. And I *loved* doing the breakfast. Don't judge me!)
I am so pleased to announce that we broke that record by about 4 or 5 plates, if I remember right, and L. couldn't be happier. She had such a joy and a happiness just to serve others, and to do the nitty-gritty, behind the scenes action that takes a special heart to want to do. The whole time I was with her Wednesday, all I could see in her (she was an adult, mind you) was a giddy little girl, prancing around every time someone came to the house asking for food. She gave me a new vision of child-like faith, not just in believing tiny words on cigarette paper, but the faith that in serving others, something is made right.
While this is a very hard hit for all of us here at Grace and Main, her legacy will live on, and the faith and joy she showed to me will forever be treasured within my heart.
"I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live." ~ John 11:25
"'See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
And God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.'
And the one who was seated on the throne said, 'See, I am making all things new.'"
~ Revelation 21:3-5
Light it up,
LT
(This is a paraphrase of the best I can remember it):
"Hey guys...I have some...bad news. L. was hit by a car today, she was taken to the hospital, no one had seen her for a little while, and, ..." (I was thinking, Please say she's ok. Don't say she's dead). "...well, she died earlier..."
The whole atmosphere instantly changed as we switched from joyous havoc reapers to sullen, grief-stricken bodies. We all stood there, trying to make sense of what was just said to us. I didn't know her as well as the others, but I had just worked with her and got to know her a little over the past 10 days, but especially on Wednesday.
Every Wednesday L. and Bruce prepare breakfast to give out to the people who live on the North Side, and this particular Wednesday I joined her and Bread-Mike to prepare the plates and hand them out to whoever wanted them. L. wanted so bad to at least reach their goal, which I think was 42 plates? Every time people came to us wanting plates, she would eagerly rush inside to prepare them, and I would either hang around outside, or I would saunter in after her to help make them. (Note this, I am a natural saunter-er. It is not necessarily because I don't like what I'm doing..it's just what I do. And I *loved* doing the breakfast. Don't judge me!)
I am so pleased to announce that we broke that record by about 4 or 5 plates, if I remember right, and L. couldn't be happier. She had such a joy and a happiness just to serve others, and to do the nitty-gritty, behind the scenes action that takes a special heart to want to do. The whole time I was with her Wednesday, all I could see in her (she was an adult, mind you) was a giddy little girl, prancing around every time someone came to the house asking for food. She gave me a new vision of child-like faith, not just in believing tiny words on cigarette paper, but the faith that in serving others, something is made right.
While this is a very hard hit for all of us here at Grace and Main, her legacy will live on, and the faith and joy she showed to me will forever be treasured within my heart.
"I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live." ~ John 11:25
"'See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
And God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.'
And the one who was seated on the throne said, 'See, I am making all things new.'"
~ Revelation 21:3-5
Light it up,
LT
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)