It is hard to know what to say or do when someone is grieving...but when we pause and listen to God, it no longer seems hard.
A few weeks ago I received a phone call that my friend’s daughter died very suddenly -I think my heart stopped beating for a moment or two. I hung up the phone and drove over to her home. Her grown son answered the door. I said, “Is your mom home?” I heard this in the background....”don’t let her in, don’t let her in, I’m a wreck, I haven’t slept, I’m in my jammies.” I took off my shoes and ran to her. I hugged her for what felt like an hour. We cried. We cried. We cried. I said a prayer, in my head, I think...as it seemed like there was a loss for words. We talked about love and loss. We talked about happiness and sadness. We talked about going through the motions. We talked about nothing, and our silences spoke volumes.
I held her hand. I held her. And all the while, God held both of us.
So, even though I didn’t have a plant or food or a card, I went anyways. Even though I had no idea what to say or how to console my friend, I went anyways. She wasn’t looking for food or greenery or words to read. In that moment, she needed love and needed to be loved, as do all of us.
I continue to phone her...as I promised I would. I email her when I think of her, and I don’t put it off. I put coffee on her doorstep when I’m driving by her home. She is not alone, and may she know it to be true. Oh, how we all long to not feel alone.
God is calling me to be a vessel. He has been calling me consistently and I am listening. I am not sure I always know the answers, but I do know that I need to listen. I know that when I speak, or write or dance, a shift takes place. I don’t understand the shift yet, but maybe I’m not supposed to get it. Somehow I get taken to a higher place where I can “be” a child of God. Not too long ago, I realized that I am always a child of God...always...and this makes my soul smile.
January. This is “the” month...the one that changed my life. My Dad suddenly passed away and two days later I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Yes, I have MS, but I pray to God and the heavens above that this disease will never, ever have me. Dad, I know you are watching me from the heavens. I feel you in the raindrops and the snowflakes when they fall from the sky. I hear you in the birds. I see you in my reflection. I sense you when I dance. Dad, God told me something...that you died so I could live – so I could be a light to others. I’ve never been a light to anyone before but I trust you God. I trust in the call. I miss you Dad, and I thank you for my life.
God will say all that needs to be said. And through the silences, God’s love will shine a light upon us. God’s love will wrap us in peace and reassure us of our own breath. God will hold us through the grief and be there to help us find our smile again.
God is calling your name...do you hear the call? Are you listening to the call, and do you know what to do with the call?