Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Dearest God,

Oh Lord, I am keenly aware of the cycle of life. One elderly woman told me yesterday that she is tired of carrying her sick, old body around. She's lonely, doesn't like eating alone, can't get around well by herself. Another woman's mother has told her daughter she is ready to go, but her daughter is working so hard to keep her here. Another one is tired, very tired.

It seems to me there are many cycles in a lifetime. Birthing times, not just the ones in our beginning, but times when we birth new ideas, new hopes and dreams, new visions, new faith. And there are dying times. Dying to old, unhealthy behaviors, bad attitudes, beliefs that keep us oppressed and worn down. Birthing and dying are so closely related. I think it's possible that birthing and dying are tied together. I die to something in order to birth something else.

I know all three of these women. I love each one of them. I know what they're talking about. Like the daughter that can't let go, I find myself holding on too. When the elderly woman was talking at lunch yesterday, nearly everyone at the table jumped on the bandwagon to keep her alive, to urge her to think different, to be happy. I watched her face. It's not what she wants. Were we insensitive to her needs, her desires, her wants? We don't live in her skin, how can we tell her what to do?

I'm aware of my own needs and the needs of the other women around the table. We're all over 60, and some are over 80. We're not comfortable saying goodbye to someone we love. Perhaps some are thinking of their own mortality and because they're frightened, they don't want to have to deal with someone else's.

I have a favorite song entitled, "Here Am I." At my going away party at my last church, the choir sang it for me, the soloist, our director of music. A professional soprano voice, I weep when I hear her sing. She knows its my favorite song. That's why she sang it. If she lives longer than I do, I want her to sing it one last time for me, even if she's old and has a scratchy throat.

There's a line in the song that goes something like this, "Living or dying, I still would be thine..." Perhaps that's the answer to the dilemma. If we are living daily in the hands of God, then we belong to God. We are not ultimately alone and neither are those who are transitioning themselves for another "land." We are connected together by the eternal cord of God; therefore, we have no reason for fear.

Just as I sing today my favorite song, I shall sing it for the other women, the daughter...

Loving God,
there are the seasons
of birthing and dying,
living and dying.
Why must we
be afraid?
Is it that we are afraid
of changing our life
or allowing it to change?
If we are clay
in the potter's hands,
then how can we remain
hard,
unpliable,
inflexible,
cold?
In your hands
we can be refashioned
with a beauty
we cannot now imagine.
In your hands
we can be shaped
without our warts and blemishes;
we can be moulded
into a person
so beautiful
filled with the marks
of your hands.
Who would not
want it?
And how can we
be an obstacle
to the retooling
by God?

Love, Andrea