Heavy,
Mary Oliver from her book, Thirst
That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry
but how you carry it,
books, bricks, grief,
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe
also troubled,
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?
These are unprecedented anxious times. And, yesterday, we awoke to the tragic news of a mass shooting in Nova Scotia.
I do so hope you are taking special care of yourself and reaching out for regular conversation, support, and love.
I have been pondering our Easter story and finding there a message much needed in my daily living.
"Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance.
Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus' body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
They asked her, "Woman, why are you weeping?"
Why are you weeping? I see this question as an invitation, to share your feelings, your truth, and to join with God who is with you.
I trust that God's ministering angels still ask that question to us today as an invitation to share in our pain, to comfort us in all our losses, and to give us the courage to live with the "heavy," the weightiness and consider the poet's brilliant grief care:
"It's not the weight you carry
but how you carry it,
books, bricks, grief,
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing."
Today, I saw a pole with red paper hearts broken down the centre and words of love beneath them from a CBC Nova Scotia broadcast. The image and the words spoke volumes.
I'll end this post with a hymn:
I will hold the Christ-light for you in the night-time
Of your fear, I will hold my hand out to you,
Speak the peace you long to hear.
I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I'll
Laugh with you; I will share your joy and sorrow,
Till we've seen this journey through.
Mary Oliver from her book, Thirst
That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry
but how you carry it,
books, bricks, grief,
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe
also troubled,
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?
These are unprecedented anxious times. And, yesterday, we awoke to the tragic news of a mass shooting in Nova Scotia.
I do so hope you are taking special care of yourself and reaching out for regular conversation, support, and love.
I have been pondering our Easter story and finding there a message much needed in my daily living.
"Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance.
Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus' body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
They asked her, "Woman, why are you weeping?"
Why are you weeping? I see this question as an invitation, to share your feelings, your truth, and to join with God who is with you.
I trust that God's ministering angels still ask that question to us today as an invitation to share in our pain, to comfort us in all our losses, and to give us the courage to live with the "heavy," the weightiness and consider the poet's brilliant grief care:
"It's not the weight you carry
but how you carry it,
books, bricks, grief,
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing."
Today, I saw a pole with red paper hearts broken down the centre and words of love beneath them from a CBC Nova Scotia broadcast. The image and the words spoke volumes.
I'll end this post with a hymn:
I will hold the Christ-light for you in the night-time
Of your fear, I will hold my hand out to you,
Speak the peace you long to hear.
I will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I'll
Laugh with you; I will share your joy and sorrow,
Till we've seen this journey through.
Permission to podcast / stream the music in this service obtained from ONE LICENSE, License #620897. All rights reserved.
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