NOT HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

Across the pond the sun is just beginning to peek over the tops of the pines; hot tea in my hands, I watch the wind blow through the branches. The house is quiet, the proverbial calm before the storm of roasting turkey and mashing potatoes, before the Macy’s day parade and a gathering of friends. This same sun will rise on those I love far away. I must hold in tension the longing to have everyone gathered, as my friends say, “all their chicks in the nest,” and the desire to have them live their own lives bringing light and love where they find themselves.

I’m thankful, of course, for the children still nestled in their beds here, but for those who are grown  I must make room in my heart for their journeys. These are the days, when only part of the family is gathered, that I feel a quiet ache at the center of my soul; I want to weep when someone asks, “Is everyone coming home for Thanksgiving?” My mind argues, ”How can they make the trip, living on the west coast and their lives beckoning them to stay?” And then my heart cries, “How dare they not come home to be with us, laughing, arguing, baking, playing, talking, bickering?”

I’m grateful for the gift of silence this morning, to quietly look into my heart and see how much sorrow there is that we are not all gathered at one table, but then to be able to give thanks for the lives that have been given to us to nurture and bless, sometimes from a distance. This sun that pours over my books and dining room table will rise on them as well and with this I will learn to be content.

Missing someone today?

Medicine from Sacred Writings:

“God gives great gifts, procuring abundant harmony and love, that each one standing in need of the other might be brought closer to his brother.”

                                                                               John Chrysostom Fourth Century

BLACK FRIDAY

Christmas shopping thirty two years ago in Fredonia’s  little department store I frantically searched for just the right gift and I found the mugs. Looking back now  it is blurred in grief.  My father loved coffee, so I chose a set of mugs for him;  they are vividly etched in my mind forever.

My Thanksgiving coming and going was uneventful. I left for Rochester to visit my college roommate. We headed to Disney on Ice, returning late to Debbie’s there was an eerie silence; there had been an accident, I needed to go home, everything would be fine, her parents would put me on the prayer line.

My dad had died. My world crumbled and his presents remained unopened. Staying up all night cleaning I hoped to find rhyme or reason or meaning; all these eluded me. The day before we all  enjoyed our Thanksgiving meal and afterwards watched The Waltons, the old movie where the Grandpa died when a tree fell on him. My father died in the same way. I have always wondered if God was trying to prepare me.

Grief has its own timeframe and just when we think we are fine a memory or a thought will bring all the sadness with its crushing loneliness back to us. I can’t prepare for Thanksgiving without wondering, “If I had known my dad would die the next day, would I have stayed home, given him his presents earlier, told him I loved him?”

Grieving?

Processing grief while walking into the holidays is like carrying an elephant into a room full of party goers- they’re  all going to a gathering  your soul cannot find the clothes for. Be very gentle with yourself. Hold the memories as a precious gift and slowly let go; release your loved one to embrace those who are with you now; they need you as much as you needed the one who has died.

Medicine from Sacred Scripture:

“A Father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in HIs holy temple. God sets the solitary in families.” Psalm 68:5-6

PACKAGE PROBLEMS

I approached the TSA officer quite embarrassed, “I have a really unusual request.”

“No, unusual requests started a week ago lady; this is nothing,” he joked.

I sent wrapped Christmas presents home with my in-laws, but unfortunately I couldn't remember what was in one of the packages purchased in Maine over the summer. The security personnel seized the box of goodies but told my mother-in-law I could come retrieve it within an hour, so here I was at the airport again.

Wrapping presents earlier that morning I had been delighted with myself: here I was with presents bought and on their way to Colorado four weeks before Christmas. Pride goes before a fall. As I waited for the supervisor to bring the key to unlock the confiscated item all I could think was, “How could I be so ignorant?” By the time I retrieved the syrup many of the TSA workers had had a good laugh at my expense and maybe that is the point.

It will not be easy, this season of buying and mailing and delivering. Earlier in the week I saw an old weary man bent over an empty shopping cart shuffling across South Main Street. We all have handicaps coming into the holidays; it’s just that some disabilities are easier to see than others. What we carry, or do not carry, in our hearts hinders or helps us as we begin this time of giving and receiving.

If we are to live and give and survive we cannot afford an empty cart and we must know what is in the package. Wild blueberry jam, honey and maple syrup will not fly! I must give of myself what I can and know that He who made me is more than able to supply all that I need if I ask Him. Everything hidden will be revealed anyways! All that I intended to give was plainly made evident as the airport officials showed me.

I wonder what you’ll be giving this Christmas.

Medicine from Sacred Scripture

“Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.”  James 1:17 New Revised Standard Version

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

For the next five weeks we will look at what it means to go home for the holidays. So many have such deep pain around their memories of home and going home. I pray these reflections might bring healing.

I thought I knew where I was going, a quick trip to the airport to pick up family flying in- so simple, right? I arrived early and ran up the steps, two by two, eagerly scanning the arrivals; their flight was in. Gazing at the security line I noticed a soldier boarding and mentally thanked him for his service. Five minutes went by and I scrambled down to baggage claim, but couldn’t find them, so I ran up the stairs again to wait at the gate. No sign of them. After searching and waiting, reaching for the phone only to realize I didn’t have their numbers, I began to get frantic. How could I connect with them? I kept seeking them where they had always met me before.

So it is with family and home comings. We wait for someone in the place we have always met them, but they have changed and we can no longer find them there. We must negotiate arrivals and find ways to relate when our hearts are longing for more than a welcome. We want to be found; receiving acceptance and grace for who we have become, not who we were when we left.

After finding my in-laws we make our way home to dinner and a full table. Sharing the details of their journey they settle in for a visit. It will be brief and busy, but we have moments and memories to string together and draw our hearts just that much closer. We will go to the coast, Mom and I, to walk the Marginal Way and Dad will go antiquing; little gifts of time and grace to hold space for each other.

I wonder how far you are from home and others. Will you find home in these holidays?

Medicine from Sacred Writing:

“That son, when he returned to His Father’s house, came to his former honor and appeared more glorious than him who had ever been well-pleasing.”

John Chrysostom Fourth Century

JOIN ME

The stars still sing in the sky as morning begins, reminding me of the dawn our son set out for his adventures. All was darkness and unknown weeks ago heading to the airport, and now we find him taking leaps of faith and grasping life by the hand and truly living it- so amazing!

In the dark new things grow, old things pass away~ bulbs planted in this cold autumn ground will bear beautiful flowers next spring, but there will be waiting and longing, bitter cold winds and storms to face before the thaw.

I am letting go of this writing space and journeying to another... new beginnings are never easy. Join me as I write Apply The Medicine (www.applythemedicine.com)... bringing healing with old, true words: "Let us know ourselves. Let us know our wounds. For then we shall be able to apply the medicines. For he who does not know his disease, will give no care to his weaknesses." John Chrysostom Fourth Century

Watching the sun rise this morning, the tall dark pines silhouetted against the night sky, I marvel as the day brings a touch of glory. Faint glimmers of light begin, may the same be true of our hearts and lives and souls.

Medicine from Sacred Scripture:

"I will give you treasures of darkness, riches hidden in secret places. So that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name." Isaiah 45:3

PIES, PLAYING GAMES AND PRUNING

We had a big mulberry tree in our front yard growing up with messy purple fruit that stained our feet when we played under its leaves. After dinner we would go out there to a game of kickball with second base under the trunk of that tree. When dusk finally drove us into the house we'd have to scrub our feet raw; I'm not sure why, but we never thought to wear shoes. I mostly remember hiding. I'd crawl up and shelter myself under the big leafy branches and try to peer through to see the blue sky. I would go there when I was frightened, lonely, needed to think. I could see and hear most everything, but didn't have to respond.

How interesting now, that a lifetime has passed, I am asked to be a tree- the kind that shelters a family, welcomes home, protects and provides nurture and roots for those who fly away. 

We'll pick apples this coming weekend in a glorious orchard sitting above acres of crimson forests; it's the season to pick apples. It is my season to live the tension of letting go and welcoming, of growing and pruning. I must wake up and live in the life I have been given, my roots going deep into God's love, no more picking fruit from the childhood tree that hid me. I never did like mulberry pie. I have always created what I loved and this will mean apple pie, not a seedy purple pie, and peach jam not blackberry, salsa not canned tomatoes. I have choices that call me to my true self and to embracing what I love, who I love and how I am loved.

I wonder what you are creating and what fruit you are using?

Medicine from Sacred Scripture:

 “He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in due season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.” Psalm 1:3

FREE

Two tiny feathered birds sit on the chair next to mine; the sea breeze ruffles their feathers yet they seem unperturbed. Perching for a few moments longer, they gaze my way and then they're gone. I immediately recall Jesus' words telling me I am worth more than many sparrows. How can we know our worth intuitively when our journey is uncertain or our soul unclear? I look here or there, but value eludes me like some misplaced decimal point. There is much to treasure in my life and I am tempted to place my value there until I have set roots down where God would have wings.

The birds fly off darting between sun-drenched chairs and find rest near the edge of the sea shore. I sit still and wait for movement, wanting my soul to shift somehow, to be carefree and unencumbered. I feel fettered by an identity based on outward expectations, and the shackles are chaffing my little wings.

As I walk the coast my heart nearly breaks as I listen to a man berate his wife, “Comon', how can your heart -rate be up? We haven't even walked far. You gotta get up and move. This ain't helpin'!” Is she not worth more than many sparrows? Can I let go of others' expectations and embrace the words of the One who created me?

Could the woman resting on the bench have said, “Please, I'm tired, let me be; go on without me.” If I had had the courage I would have said, “Stop, now, can't you see she's tired?” I wonder if God sometimes looks at us as we are trembling and says, “Hush, child, I know you are afraid.”

I wonder if you are flying free?

Medicine from Sacred Scripture:

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” Matthew 10:29-31