grace in tears

i used to cry.  all the time.  in fact, i would go so far as to say i was known for crying at the drop of a hat.  people used to give me a really hard time for being so sensitive.  i saw it as a curse that i felt things so deeply that my body was actually moved to tears.  several years ago, i made up my mind to change.  to harden.  to de-sensitize.  i didn't cry for a very long time.  it worked so well that even when i wanted to cry to show my sadness, i couldn't.  i don't remember exactly when i got my tears back, but it was shortly after moving to boston.  one day, the floods just came.  and they kept coming.  they especially like to come in public places like movie theatres and churches.  i respond to them differently now, though.  i appreciate them.  i realize that they are simply an outward symbol of the internal compassion i am able to feel for those who experience suffering.  my meditation class this semester has helped me to have a new perspective on what compassion really means- to suffer with someone.  not just to feel sorry for them.  not just to say a prayer and move on.  not to tell them it'll be okay and numb yourself.  but to really feel, in your own way, what they are feeling.  

unfortunately, i have had several occasions recently that have moved me to tears.  not just a little trickle down the cheek, but sobbing that doesn't stop until you realize you can't breathe and there is no saline left in your body.  i weep because i wish that it weren't so.  i weep because dear friends of mine have to endure such pain and loss, and there is nothing i can do to help.  i weep because life is too short.  maybe i hope that in some tiny way, my willingness to feel the pain will take away a tiny fraction of theirs- lighten their load, even to the slightest degree.  

i have always been fascinated by the wailing wall, a most holy and sacred place in jerusalem where jewish people (and others) go to pray.  it is customary to slip a note with a written prayer into a crevice along the wall.  in The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, one of my favorite books, one of the characters, May, builds her own wailing wall in the backyard as a way of coping with the pain she deeply feels for everyone who suffers.  any time she hears something on the news or in a conversation, she writes it on a piece of paper and goes and sticks it in the wall with tears streaming down her face.  in the end, she cannot cope with all of the pain and suffering that she bears on behalf of the world.  who possibly could?  the lesson i learned from her, though, is the importance of feeling, and not trying to hide your feelings or reject them, but letting them live themselves out.  i have been reading Plan B by Anne Lamott lately.  she says at one point that holding your breath is the ultimate withholding, because you aren't taking anything in or letting anything out.  for me, trying not to cry feels like i am withholding myself- some core part of who i am and a gift i have been given.  i can't do it and talk about living an authentic life.  i have to let the rivers flow, feel the sorrow, and breathe.  thank you, God, for the grace to feel, to cry, and to know that it's okay (john 11:35). 

grace in angels

so...my last post was about the power of prayer, and i haven't posted in the last few days because although i absolutely believe in the power of prayer, sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to.  i did the last post on friday, and sometime during the night, my best friend kim spiked a fever and acquired an infection that sent them into the hospital.  if you want to read the story, you can at her blog, but i will just say that after a grueling labor and delivery, little tobias joseph was born silently that evening.  my heart just breaks for them, having only an inkling of the emotional weight they must be carrying after losing their sweet boy- only compounded by the grief resurfacing from the loss of their first child, sweet natalie claire.  

i came across a painting called "tobias and the angel" that i wanted to share with you.  all afternoon on saturday, as kim was in labor, i was praying for tobias' angels to surround and protect him.  i know one of those angels is his big sister, and i believe another is our mutual friend becky, who died from a brain tumor exactly six years ago to the day- may 1, 2004.  in the bible, tobias is guarded by the archangel raphael.  

angels are something i went through a brief obsession with earlier in life (middle school, i think it was), but haven't thought much about recently.  i can never remember what the church officially says about them and how they rank, but honestly, i don't really care.  to me, they are the connection between heaven and earth.  my mom's always been fond of angels and i can't help but think that it's just something you need for your own sanity when you become a mom- to believe that there are angels watching over your children when they aren't with you (even when they are).  imagining sweet toby surrounded by angels and saints and Jesus and his heavenly mother, Mary is one of the only things that brings me any consolation; i hope it helps kim too, although i'm sure she would give anything to have both of her children here with her, like it should be.

yesterday i was having a rough day, finding it really hard to focus on my work and think about anything other than my dear friend and her suffering.  i was feeling horrible that i live so far away and can't be there to do all of the things that i know other people are doing- cooking meals, cleaning house, running errands- the distance makes me feel helpless.  i know she understands and wants me to be where i am supposed to be, but times like this make it tough.  i know that praying and spreading the word so that others can pray is one important thing i can do, and i have been trying to do it as best i can.  i really was just longing to be able to do something to help, though.  then, last night, i was sitting on the front porch talking to my mom on the phone when a sweet old golden retriever strolled down the street, up our walk, and laid down next to me on the porch.  she was beautiful, but you could tell by the white around her face and her trouble getting up the stairs that she was old.  i told my mom i had to go and just sat there, petting the dog.  it was already a special moment, but then i looked at the tags and saw that her name was "angel."  i just started crying as i was talking to my sweet angel and trying to comfort her and make her feel welcome when clearly she was lost.  it hit me that she was here so that i could do something and be helpful.  she needed me to give her some love and then walk her home.  and i needed to be able to do something- technically for the dog, but it was my love for kim, brandon, and toby that i was pouring our onto this four-legged friend.  

angels come in all forms.  i know some of you reading this blog don't like animals, but i'm telling you, i believe with all my heart that that dog was sent to me from above- my angel.  kim and brandon, know that i am sending you all the love in the world with every thought and prayer and wishing it weren't so.  toby, i know you miss your parents, but your sister will take good care of you and both of you can look out for your mommy and daddy until the glorious day many years from now when you will all be reunited again.

"Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."

-Hebrews 13:2