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
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