All Saints Day Sunday 2019

The yard with her fallen leaves beckoned me outdoors this All Saints Day Sunday.  Bent over to gather raked up leaves, and to pull a few stubborn weeds, the sun warmed my back and thoughts of my mama soothed my weary soul.

It has been three months since she died.  

Ninety-one days to be exact.

I miss her more than I ever thought possible.  And sometimes it takes my breath away.

While three months is still a brief measure of time in the kronos of grief, with the passing of the days, the sharp stinging rawness has lessened its grip on me.  And, still, I miss her. 

Today, as The Church celebrates All Saints Day, I cannot help but think of my mama.  And there is a lot to think about—her smile, her laugh as big as a country sky, her kindness and generosity, and her love for her family and friends.  But beyond even these gifts, amazing as they are, are the gifts that have no measure, and these are what I pondered today.

Our pastor, Todd Peperkorn, spoke today about hope; a tricky thing when death steals the one you love. An elusive reality when grief settles around like a foggy shroud, veiling everything in a melancholy grey. And yet, there it is. Hope.  St. Paul writes, “Grieve not as those who have no hope.” (I Thessalonians 4:13b). For that is exactly what All Saints Day reminds us and what Pastor Peperkorn reminded us: We have hope. We do not find it “out there” for the world is anything but hopeful. We don’t even find it in our hearts, for our hearts can be fickle.  But we do find it laid out for us on the altar in holy communion: Take eat. This is my Body. Take Drink. This is my blood. Given for you for the forgiveness of sins.

In this simple mystery, I was joined to angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, (my mama included). Love’s immensity was embodied in the light-as-a-feather wafer, and pungent wine. I ate. I drank. I feasted. I thanked God for my mama.

My sorrow remains. But it is tinged with joy.  For my mama gave me a gift beyond all gifts—the living example of a faithful, devout mother who prayed for her family and friends each day while she was able.  And when she was no longer able?  I leave that in the hands of the One who loves her even more than I do, impossible as that seems.

Always Mercy,


me and my mama 2016

via Always Mercy https://ift.tt/2JKvwQ8

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