Today I am sitting in a coffee shop blogging. Today is not a good day. Today is two years since I lost my dad. Two years ago today my whole world changed. How in the midst of grief and sadness could I possibly be fulfilled? I have started to wonder if that is selfish. Is it selfish to be happy when so many sad things have happened?
As I have reflected on this idea over the past week several things come to mind. I am happy. I have a wonderful husband, a ridiculously wonderfully obnoxious kid, I am pregnant with another baby, I love my job at the church, I am connected to more people through that job than I ever imagined and my relationship with God was grown significantly over the past two years.
When I lost my dad I remember Paul saying to me that he thought I would be okay b/c of Henry and because I was strong. He was incredibly supportive and I think knew eventually I would be. The past two years have been a constant struggle for me. I have developed anxiety that for awhile had to be maintained with medication (honestly I am only off of it b/c of the pregnancy), I created tension in my job simply b/c of my own anger and grief coming out of every direction and no one understanding what was happening, I put strains on my friendships, I picked fights with my husband and the list goes on. For almost two years I lived in constant fear that something else would go wrong, that my life was destined to be filled with grief and loss and that I would somehow have to figure my way through it.
During this time a lot happened spiritually with me as well. While knowing that I was a hot mess I still knew that I was loved and cared for by God. That even in my brokenness, God was my strength and the one place that I felt complete solace and peace. In June things started to change for me. I look back on what was happening then and I realize it was my job at the church. I was hired to work 10-12 hours a week as a Pastoral Assistant. I honestly had no idea what I was doing or what God was asking me to do but I quickly learned I was just there to serve. I was available to make copies, to order books for classes and to help in Sunday worship. I was also there to help meet with people in the hospital and to provide Pastoral Care. This was the part I was the most terrified and excited about. My whole career has been about helping people so I knew I had that part down. However, praying? Talking about God? Was I expected to do that? Umm yep.
Over the summer I had the great honor of meeting with many people in the hospital. It was a great way to meet more people within our church and to let people know that I am there to serve. One particular woman will always be in my heart. Margaret has been a member of Grace for most of her adult life. She and her husband raised their children in the church and were now living in an assisted living facility. The church got a call from her son that they needed a visit. I responded said that I would be happy to stop by since it was by the hospital and I was already on my way there. I was on the phone with Paige on the way there and for some reason we were talking about what I would do if I walked into a situation where someone was dying. I laughed and told her that they would never send me on a call like that and that I had been reassured of this. I bet you know where this is going... when I walked into the nursing home I was excited to visit with Margaret, I had met her that summer in the hospital and while her mind was gone she was still a joy to talk with. I was greeted by the front desk and all of a sudden I realized that this was not a normal visit. The Director of the Nursing home greeted me and told me she was glad I was there and that the whole family had gathered. I smiled and tried to look for the nearest exit. SHIT! I knew what that meant. Her son called for a REAL PASTOR to come by b/c his mother was dying and I volunteered to go... I quickly realized that I couldn't run, I took a deep breath and prayed for wisdom and strength. When I walked into the room her children were all there. I decided to act like I knew what I was doing and began talking to them about their parents. As we talked I finally realized how I knew them, besides church. For years I worked at José Peppers and they used to come in 2-3 times a week. She always ordered the pollo magnifico and he always ordered a salad. We laughed about this connection and then it was time for me to see Margaret. She was in her final stages of life. Not responsive and very labored breathing. I went in and put my hand on hers. I then looked around and they had all followed me.... I realized in that moment that I was the Pastor, no matter how much I wanted to deny that, I was the Pastor for that family. For all the knew I had done this a thousand times. I squeezed her hand and asked if they wanted to pray. The words flowed from my mouth and when I said "Amen" I looked up and they were all crying. I let them all know that I would pass on what was happening to one of the Pastors and the son looked at me and said "you did great. Thank you".
My view on what I was called to do was solidified that day. My own grief and loss of my father taught me how to hold others while they are grieving. It taught me how to be truly present with those in pain, how to let God work through me and how I needed to embrace and focus on my own healing in order to be able to minister to others. My anxiety while still present finally seemed to become manageable, I began intentionally being more present with my family which led to deeper and more fulfilled relationships, I spent more time with my friends, I forced myself to leave stuff from my full time job at work and to set boundaries with my own capacity there and with others. I began a process of healing. For the first time I put myself first and the result is a completely transformed me.
I have realized that I am broken. I am a hot mess half of the time but I am one of Gods' beloved children and even in my brokenness I am worthy of that love.
I think this is what my mom meant. Something changed for me in the last 6 months. I am fulfilled. I am happy and finally able to say that and feel confident in it. It isn't selfish to be happy in the midst of grief and loss. In fact it is the opposite. I am living the life my dad would want me to live. I am living the life that God wants me to live. I know it is okay to fall, I know it is okay to be broken and I also know with all of my heart and soul that God is always there to pick me up and show me unconditional love.
I am broken hearted over the loss of my father and that will never change. I will never get over it. What I will do is take that grief and pain and make my life fulfilled; I will be brave and know that my dad and God are always with me leading me to the path of fulfillment.
God bless this amazing, sorrowful, beautiful life I have been given.
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