Posted in Celebration, Faith, Grief

I Lit a Candle

I lit a candle this morning.

For the first time.

Not just any candle.

The candle of “Hope” on this first day, this first Sunday of Advent.

It’s a new thing I’m doing this year, the year of all years.
 
The candle of Hope.

Hope.

A simple word.  But not a simple word.

A complex and intricate word.  A pregnant word.

Pregnant?

Yes, pregnant.  The “full of meaning” kind of pregnant.

I’ve been pregnant six times.  Two ended way too soon, loss and grief and confusion permeating my heart.  Four ended at just the right time, joy and life and expectation bursting onto the scene.

Pregnant.

This word.  Hope.  What I felt every single time those two lines appeared on my bathroom counter.

This word.  Hope.

Two times, it ended in a bloody mess.  A bloody mess that brought the end of possibility, the death of the little life that had stopped growing, and abject heartache.

In this particular season of Advent, in all things 2020, it sure seems like I’m sitting in the middle of a bloody mess on my bathroom floor crying.

All I did was open my newspaper this morning.

[One-third of small businesses closed.]

[Numbers in hospitals highest they’ve ever been.]

[Two teenagers dead after Black Friday mall shooting.]

That was just the front page.

In this particular season of Advent, in all things 2020, it’s really okay to be sitting in the middle of a bloody mess on my bathroom floor crying.

It’s why I lit a candle this morning.

NOT because there is nothing to grieve.

NOT because everything is as it should be.

BUT exactly because there is lots to grieve.

BUT exactly because everything is NOT as it should be.

This word.  Hope.  What I felt every single time those two lines appeared on my bathroom counter.

BUT this word.  Hope.

Four times, it also ended in a bloody mess.  But those times, the bloody mess brought the beginning of possibility, the birth of the little life that had grown just enough, and undeniable joy.

Mary.  My favorite pregnant woman.

Young, poor, single.  A nobody.

In a world where her headlines read just like mine.

In a world where there was a lot to grieve.

In a world where everything was NOT as it should be.

BUT in her womb, a baby grew.

Just enough.

AND yes, her pregnancy ended in a bloody mess.

But hope tells me what her Baby tells me as He bursts on the scene.

[I’m right here with you in the middle of your grief.]

[I will put things right and things will be as they should.]

[Take courage, my child.  Prepare your heart for Me.]

It’s why I lit a candle this morning.

HOPE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Faith, Grief, Sabbath

What Do We Do With the Space In Between??

Now Mary Magdalene and another Mary kept vigil there, seated opposite the tomb. Matthew 27:61
It’s not Good Friday.
It’s not Easter Sunday.
It’s just Saturday. The space in between.
What do we do when…
We’ve lost our job AND don’t have a glimmer of the next?
Our kids are grown AND our hearts wonder what comes after?
We’ve gotten the diagnosis AND there’s still no “good course of action” from our doctor?
Our marriage is over AND we don’t know if we’ll ever be truly loved?
We’ve filed for bankruptcy AND we still can’t give up our life’s dream?
We’re sequestered at home AND we have no idea when this pandemic will truly end and we will be safe to venture out?
Our Savior is dead AND it’s still Saturday.
What do we do with the space in between?
WE GRIEVE, whether wailing out loud or whimpering into our pillow
WE QUESTION, possibly shouting to the sky or shushing our inmost fears and doubts
WE SIT SILENT, perhaps eyes wet with tears or as a stunned bird gathering strength
WE WAIT, living the tension of the known past but the unknown future
WE WATCH, expectantly yet with trepidation
and mostly…
WE HOPE, for we long to believe that what lies ahead is somehow richer because of what lies behind
WE HOPE in this place of rest. SHABBAT.
WE HOPE in this place of peace. SHALOM.
Yes. It’s just Saturday…still Saturday! The space in between.
Hear this my soul, my friend: REST In PEACE today!
SHABBAT SHALOM!