Thursday, May 10, 2007

Dear God,

I revisited death today. Ginny died unexpectedly. I was calling to find out the result of her tests and Bill told me she was gone. I was shocked. I had just talked with her 36 hours before. She said she would call. She didn't.

Then I went to visit Jeanette who is in hospice care and has taken a downward turn. She had been doing very well. Now she has a pain, fever and loss of appetite. Maybe it's a bug, maybe not.

I whirled into her home. I often describe myself as a tornado whirling in and whirling out. That came from a visit to her hospital room a few months ago when I told her when she felt better we would don pink ballet tutus to whirl and twirl, dance on tables. She laughed and so did I. She always smiles when I walk into the room. Maybe she's imagining us on those crazy tables.

I love Ginny and Jeanette. They are two of my favorite people. I am saddened by the loss each will bring as they transition from this life to the next. I will miss them just as I have missed those I have lost before in my ministry. I had said goodbye many, many times.

Goodbyes are only hellos somewhere else. I don't know how that all works. I don't have all the details. I just know it happens. Like the grain of wheat that falls and dies, a goodbye, and the new wheat that grows from the death some time later, a hello. Life is filled with goodbyes and hellos. A good plan really.

It is my privilege to be on both sides of the goodbyes and hellos. In ministry I help people say goodbye to old behaviors, making room for a hello. I enter into their joy as they move from death to life. And even from life to death to new life as they conclude their earthly existence and take up the new life elsewhere. I don't understand it all; I just know that you make it all happen.

Let my joy,
my inner joy,
be the well of hope
to others.
Let my words
be the language
of love.
Let my faith
be an anchor,
a rock solid anchor
in a dangerous storm.
Let my peace
be the peace
of Jesus.

My hope is in you, Andrea