Reason #1,439 We Sing in Worship

Yesterday in Chapel there was no bulletin, just some hymn lyrics, and a hymn number on the board for the closing song.  When I opened the hymnal to #727 for the closing song (we have the new Presbyterian Glory to God hymnals) it was this - - 

"The Servant Song" on YouTube

 

Brief recording @ Hymnary.org 

When I was a rising freshmen in high school I went to Music Camp at Camp Whitman, a Presbyterian summer camp owned and operated by the Presbyteries of Geneva and Genesee Valley in the Fingerlakes region of New York.  It was not my first time at Camp Whitman, but it was my first time at Music Camp.

I am not usually surprised in worship.  I am one of "those" people that scans the whole bulletin when I sit down.  I was surprised Monday.  When the opening chords of "The Servant Song" were played I was awash in sense memories so strong they created positive emotions and feelings in me I had all but forgotten.  

• I was reminded of beautiful, radiant, wonderful human beings I met that week I learned "The Servant Song" for the very first time (some of whom I am still blessed to be friends with 18 years later).    
• I could smell the mix of damp leaves, lake water, and campfire smoke that is the essence of Camp Whitman.

Remembering that time that was filled with love and joy so vividly overwhelmed and brought me to tears.

"I will weep when you are weeping

When you laugh I'll laugh with you"

Bulletin Covers

When I was planning my beloved friend's memorial service this past week, I briefly considered bulletin covers with a sunflower on them because they were her favorite flower.  

In the end we decided to go with roses because of a significant family story.  During those few days searching for covers with sunflowers on them I was really frustrated that the scripture verses on them were specifically focused on fall, and harvest and Thanksgiving.

I've been reflecting a lot about this season of loss occurring during Autumn.  Fall is my favorite season.  While leaves, vines, and flowers all die in the fall, it is also a time of abundant harvest.  Bulbs get planted in the fall for spring blossoms.  It's cool enough in the fall to have a fire in the fireplace at my parent's house.  The smell of woodsmoke has always created feelings of peace and calm in my heart. 

Searching through all of those bulletin covers with scripture passages normally associated with fall, harvest and Thanksgiving was a good reminder for me that in addition to a time of grief, this is still a time of abundance to be thankful for.  Today I am thankful for all the gifts that Paula and Grandpa brought to my life.

  

Holding Space, Not Quoting Cliches

In April, Scott Simon wrote an article for Huffington Post called "7 Things No Grieving Person Wants To Hear (And What To Say Instead)"...

While he makes some great points about the mistakes we can make when speaking to someone who is hurting (out of our own anxiety of not knowing what to say) I think the most important note, is #7 - don't let someone's loss pass without telling them you care.  Basically, after reading the whole slew of things you should NOT say to people who are grieving, please don't let it stop you from saying something.  

A great place to start is "I am so sorry."  Then be quiet.  Hold space for the other person.  Silence might be healing.  If not, they might want to share a memory with you, or tell you how they're feeling.  

The ministry of presence is something we can all handle, and we can all get better at.

Thank God for Dogs

“Dogs are the closest we come to knowing the divine love of God on this side of eternity. They love you all the time, no matter what.” 

– Anne Lamott

The past few months have been a difficult season for me and Steve, and the last month in particular has been really challenging.  The days seemed to have been filled with loss and illness; in particular the deaths of two people beloved to me, my grandfather and a dear friend.  

In addition to those deaths, a series of other events has occurred; some as inane as the fire sprinkler in our closet starting to leak on our clothes and having to be replaced involving moving ALL. THE. THINGS. out of the closet for sprinkler and drywall repair, and others as important as job searching.  

Grief and loss makes everything harder.  Especially brushing your teeth, apparently.  Sorry if that's too much information, but I never forget to do this in "normal mode" but in "grief mode" I have now forgotten at least three times... yuck.

Another totally normal thing I have not enjoyed since all this has started happening is walking the dogs.  Not because I don't love the dogs.  I would pretty much rather spend all day with Steve and the dogs right now.  Nope, that's not it.  The reason I don't want to walk them is because when I am grieving I have discovered I dislike making small talk, and we live in this lovely friendly place where when you go outside, there are PEOPLE EVERYWHERE (normally; awesome).  The people want to talk to you, and check on you, and see if they can help you.  God BLESS them.  Seriously.  We have some absolutely gob-stopping wonderful neighbors who we love a lot.  It's me, not them.  

A side effect of grief for me is an odd, "social anxiety, not wanting to leave the apartment, but I will if I have to" sort of thing.  This is where the dogs come in, because while I will occasionally forget to brush my teeth, the dogs do still need to go to the bathroom outside the apartment.  So at least four times a day, I also have to go outside the apartment with them.

Guess what?  3 times out of 4, we don't see anyone to speak to.  That's O.K.  Fresh air, sunshine, and physical activity are just as good (if not better) than getting a smiling face from a neighbor.  The gift Teddi and McTavish give me is breaking the barrier of the front door more times a day than not, and bringing me out into God's creation as a reminder that this season of suffering and loss is not forever.