7 Posts in 7 Days: Put On Love

I experienced a loss once. It was the kind of loss that causes one to mark all events as "before" or "after" itself, forevermore. It was untimely, unexpected, and life changing. My joys will never again be unmoderated by it.

By Pethrus (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

People came. I don't remember what they said, but I remember that they were there and they said it. I have no memories of the year that followed. There was only a heavy black blanket of grief. Then, one day, I looked out my kitchen window and saw blossoms on the trees. It wasn't the blossoms that arrested me; it was the seeing. I was seeing for the first time in about a year.

Then, life went on. I really didn't want it to, but you really don't get a choice. You go on because there is no alternative. If dying is not an option, you must live.

Grief is like the labor of childbirth -- in reverse. The pains get farther apart, and less intense, but they go on as long as life does. And you live. There are loved ones who need you, and you live.

By Scott Bauer, U.S. Department of Agriculture [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Days pile upon days and become stacked up years of living. The ones who noticed your grief and reached inside and touched you in the living -- you remember, because they brought peace.

This I know:
In spite of the fact that we'd like to think differently, we don't have control over much in this life. But we can love. No one-- nothing at all-- can steal or control our ability to love, and love breathes life into the living and makes it good.

And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

~Colossians 3:14

Pax Christi dear ones,
May you love and be loved,
~Michelle

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7 Posts in 7 Days -- Take Heart; Good Abounds

Regular readers of this blog will know that I work in a considerably less-than-affluent area. I am a school speech pathologist in a very low income community. I provide services for kids who regularly see gang activity, drugs, and violence. Many of them don't see much food, except for school breakfasts and lunches. Most of them have seen things that I have not.

These last couple of weeks have been filled with summer school for me. The good thing about summer school is that there are far fewer children to provide services for. The challenging thing about it is that about half of the kids to be seen are from another therapist's caseload and, therefore, unfamiliar.

By Chris Metcalf (Crayola Lincoln Logs) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Kids are great. Kids who have had experiences that would make an adult cry and tremble are challenging. John and Sue (not their real names of course) are two such first graders. I had not previously met them, but have spent the last five work days on my toes keeping these two in line while I try to inject some speech and language therapy into their perpetual-motion filled existences.  Wow. 

John and Sue seem to recognize that they have something in common in that their home experiences are, quite likely, the worst of any in the group. To celebrate, they are at constant war with one another. There is kicking and hitting and screaming. There is competition and there are physical struggles. There are tears. It's exhausting for them and the for adults who are responsible for them. I sent a text to their regular therapist on Monday.  "I'm concerned about how John and Sue will each fare in middle school," I said. "Me too," was her reply. "They each have terrible home lives."  It's easy to despair about the futures of little ones such as these. 

By Mathieudu68 (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Today in speech therapy we played a farm game. (Actually, we worked on location and quality concepts, but the kids are certain that we just played a farm game. Speech pathologists are tricky like that!) Sue was dead set on choosing the pig when her turn came around. Unfortunately, the student just before her chose the pig. (Uh oh!)

Sue was emotionally shattered. BANG went her forehead on the table. The moment she determined that slamming her head forward onto the table was not the most comfortable means of expressing her disappointment, the tears came fast and plentifully. She began balling.  I'm pretty sure they heard her in the next town.

Ariel Waldman [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

As I got up to secure a cold pack for her forehead, John got up too. Now John is familiar with the words, "John SIT DOWN!" -- because he hears them often. Cooperation with the teacher and following of the rules are not his strong suits. As I prepared to remind him that he is not allowed to rummage through the teacher's desk, tear things off the walls, or pummel his group mates, I was stopped short.  John made his way around the entire table to Sue's side, stroked her little arm, and surrounded her with comfort. 

In a world where contemporary Baptists take in newly-homeless traditional Anglicans (smells, bells, funny hats, and all), Japanese commuters unite to tilt a train to free a woman trapped on the tracks, and John comforts Sue, we are going to be okay. There is much to hope to be found.

 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
~Romans 15:13 

Pax Christi dear ones,

Take heart!  Even in difficult times, we are loved by an Almighty God.

~Michelle

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7 Post in 7 Days: Hope for the Future

I stopped at the market on the way home from working summer school today. (What ever happened to three month summers?) I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so a crock-pot meal was in order. I made my way around the market to pick up fixings for a stew. The market I stopped at is in a town half way between work and home. Like many small towns, it has a "good' side and a "bad" side. I was treated to quite a share of cleavage, tattoos (a matter of opinion, I know), and salty language as I gathered my purchases. Just the sort of thing that renders an uptight old church lady-- like me-- concerned for the future.

Once I had the meal's provisions in hand, I went up to the checkout. A heavily tattooed and somewhat scruffy young man filed in behind me. He appeared to be the sort of young man said church lady might pass mild judgment on. (I'm not suggesting this is a good thing or anything less than sinful on my part, but there it is.)

In one hand he had a small glass vase, about six inches tall and 3 inches in diameter, filled with two carnations and the sort of white and purple floral filler that surrounds otherwise lonely carnations with love. In the other he had a card enclosed in its crisp white envelope.

"Go ahead," I said gesturing for him to move in front of me.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Thank you very much," he replied.

As he moved ahead, he kept my attention because he placed that narrow little vase on its base, right on the belt of the checkout counter. I was cringing inside in anticipation of what might happen when the checker pushed the button to move the belt along. When you're 46, a young man of 21 looks like a boy, and it's difficult to decide whether it's best to intervene and suggest revision of a precarious situation like that.

She pushed the button; he grabbed his vase. As he kept his left hand extended to steady his little
glass-enclosed spray of good wishes, he looked over his left shoulder and smiled. "It's my second wedding anniversary," he said.

Well now, to someone who makes entirely too much noise about marriage and is rather inclined to lose hope for its future in this modern culture, that is significant.

"My parents just celebrated their 50th anniversary," I replied.

"We just celebrated grandpa's 87th birthday and gran and grandpa's 63rd wedding anniversary," he said.

The checker broke in, "sixteen dollars please."

He pulled out his parachute-material wallet and ripped open the Velcro to pull out the bills. When his purchase was complete, he walked on. Once my order had been completed and paid for, I headed for the door. At a table just inside the door sat that young man. The vase of flowers stood next to the open card. His hand grasped a pen, moving rapidly in circles, the way hands sometimes do when hearts are bursting with emotion to express, but minds cannot find the words.  He looked up and saw me. I smiled. He smiled. It was a little boy smile, full of pride and hope.

It seems that our Lord is aware of those aspects of modern life that are inclined to sap me of hope and is pleased to set me straight.

Pray with me, will you, for this young man in the market and his wife? Pray for me also, that I might learn to see the face of Jesus in all people.

~~~~~

Most gracious God, we give you thanks for your tender love in sending Jesus Christ to come among us, to be born of a human mother, and to make the way of the cross to be the way of life. 

We thank you, also, for consecrating the union of man and woman in his Name.

By the power of your Holy Spirit, pour out the abundance of your blessing upon this man and this 

woman. 

Defend them from every enemy.

Lead them into all peace.

Let their love for each other be a seal upon their hearts, a mantle about their shoulders, and a crown upon their foreheads.

Bless them in their work and in their companionship; in their sleeping and in their waking; in their joys and in their sorrows; in their life and in their death. 

Finally, in your mercy, bring them to that table where your saints feast for ever in your heavenly home; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. 

Amen. 

~Prayer for Marriage from the Book of Common Prayer

~~~~~

Pax Christi dear ones,
Five more days of seeing the positive to come!
~Michelle

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Seven Posts in Seven Days - Choosing the Positive

Okay folks, I'm taking on Jen Fulwiler's challenge to write 7 posts in 7 days. I haven't been posting much lately, because, frankly, I've been a little discouraged. There doesn't seem to be much to feel positively about lately.

When I was young, my mother told me that I had two choices.  I could be happy or I could be sad. That makes quite a bit of sense, don't you think? So, seven days of looking for the positive seems a wise choice.

On July 13, Temar Boggs, a 15 year old boy from Pennsylvania, saved a 5 year old girl by following her abductor's car for 15 minutes on his bike.  Now, that's something to feel hopeful about.
The story is here.

Six more days of smiles to come...

Pax Christi dear ones,
~Michelle

For more 7 posts in 7 days contributors,

visit the linkup @ Conversion Diary.