Sunday, August 24, 2014

Seeds of Hope, Echoes of Sorrow

Sometimes, the hardest part of moving forward is realizing that you have no other choice. 

Well, perhaps moving forward isn't the only choice. But it is the only viable one.

We want to move backward to where our loved ones were. 
We know we can't do that.
We want to not move at all. The dull consistent pain of stasis is easier to handle than the sharp pains of new birth. 
Rebirth. 
Resurrection.

You can't have resurrection without death. 
Death stings. 
In order to rise anew, part of you has to die.

Though a part of my wife will always live within me, I must realize that part of me died with her.

In that death, I must seek resurrection.

Sometimes it's a lot harder to move forward than other times. Especially when it involves literally moving.

Moving and settling into my new home has been going well. My new home is in a great location, and I get to hang out with my Muncie friends consistently.

I need that. 

The life that my friends (in Muncie and elsewhere) give to me is part of the resurrection process. 

Last week in church, someone asked me how the move and the settling in has been going. My countenance must have substantially changed because they smiled and they said, "You look happy."

I think I'm ready to let myself feel happy again.

But, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

This doesn't mean that any of this has been easy, nor does it mean the experience of moving hasn't seen it's share of grief.

After a night of packing, and following a day of working, a came home to the boxes stacked up in the living room and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Oh God, this is happening.
The last time there were boxes stacked in the living room, we were moving in.
Newly Married.
Our whole lives ahead of us.

It was overwhelming.

The next week, I was having a terrible night packing.
Just struggling.
I had my phone in my hand trying to decide who to call to help me chill out a little bit.
My phone literally went off in my hands.
I managed to at least say hello before I started going off like Ron Burgundy after Baxter gets kicked off the bridge.





My friend let me cry it out, and then got me laughing pretty good before we ended our conversation. It was just what I needed.

Sometimes, ya just gotta get it out.

I also faced the difficulty of packing up some of Tiffany's things that I hadn't found the courage to go through yet. 

Throughout this whole process, it has been hard for me to go through the trivial everyday things that she laid down planning to come back to.

The things on her sink.

The things on her desk, among them the church bulletin from the day of the accident.

Her office at work.

The things that remind me of how abrupt her departure was. 

When the day came for us to make the major part of the move. I still hadn't touched her desk at the house. I hadn't found the time or emotional energy.

While we were hauling some stuff to Muncie, members of my church family hung around the house to help pack and prepare more stuff for another trip.

They packed up the things from her desk for me.

The boxes are clearly marked and I can go through them when I'm ready.

Sometimes, you've got to let people help you do the things you're not ready to do.

Sometimes, you've got to be okay with accepting that there are still some things that you're not ready to do.

I'm very thankful that they packed that stuff up for me. I'm sure they knew it was what I needed.

Then I had a birthday.

As if shaving my beard, moving, and getting approved for ordination* wasn't transitional enough...I had to process celebrating my first birthday without her.

Tiffany took birthdays seriously.

Cards, cakes, favorite beers, you name it. She pulled out all the stops. Last year, she even got me prosciutto! And, an Indy Brew Bus tour!

We used to buy concert tickets for each other for birthdays. That's why I was so thankful that my friends took me to see Kiss and Def Leppard this past weekend. We kept part of the tradition alive and we had an awesome time. (Except for the lack of sleep)

On my birthday, I sat thinking about her in my office at work and how she liked to make a big fuss about birthdays.. I listened to the rain POURING down outside of my office and I remembered something she used to tell me.

Rain is used as a plot device in literature and film to signify change. (She reminded me of that every time she made me watch The Notebook.) 

Then, naturally, I began to think about the use of water in the Biblical narrative. 

The Israelites were led through water to deliver them from oppression to new lives of freedom.

The water of baptism sets us free from the bonds of sin and death for new lives in Christ.

Both significant changes for the people of God in each of the Testaments involving water. 

I thought of all of this as I sat in my office listening to the rain that day.

It was a Holy Spirit moment for me. I had to sit back in my chair and take it all in. 

My wife and the Holy Spirit were with me in my office that day.

Change does occur, but so does new life. There is resurrection.

I think I'm ready to let myself feel happy again.

Grace and Peace,
Robert


*To be discussed in a future blog.

Friday, August 1, 2014

A Less Bearded Man among the Saints

It may surprise some of my more musically inclined friends to learn that my favorite Wilco album is "Sky Blue Sky".

I don't care if Pitchfork said it was "Dad-Rock".

One thing I love about the album is it's almost like we're meeting a new Jeff Tweedy.

Around the time that Wilco was releasing "A Ghost is Born" in 2004, Tweedy went to rehab for his addiction to painkillers.

I like to think that we get to hear Tweedy experiencing a new world with the material he wrote for "Sky Blue Sky", which came out in 2007. (While I was working at Side 1 Records, the greatest store ever.)

I have to think that going through rehab gave Tweedy a chance to see the world with new eyes. We get to hear this new perspective on the world with "Sky Blue Sky".

At this point you're probably wondering why in the Hell am I talking about Wilco so much...

I shaved off my mourning beard, and I chose "Sky Blue Sky" as the soundtrack of the occasion. 


(If you don't know the purpose of the mourning beard, refer back to this earlier post.)

Like Tweedy going through rehab in his journey of life, cutting the mourning beard was a new milestone in my grief journey. It's time to start seeing the world through new eyes. "Sky Blue Sky" really speaks to a lot of what I'm going through. Especially in these two songs:

I'm sure as Tweedy stumbled to find his new footing, he needed people to be patient with him. I know the feeling...


And then, there's the beautiful song at the end about the loss of his mother...



The lyrics from the aforementioned "On and On and On" always stop me in my tracks:
One day we'll disappear together in a dream
However short or long our lives are going to be
I will live in you or you will live in me
Until we disappear together in a dream

Please don't cry 

we're designed to die
You can't deny 

even the gentlest tide
On and on and on 

we'll be together yeah
On and on and on
On and on and on
We're going to try


Okay, that's enough about Wilco.

But, hopefully you catch my point on why this was the appropriate album for the occasion of trimming the beard.

I didn't make the decision to trim the beard alone. I spent much time in prayer, discernment, and conversation with close friends about it. 

It was time.

I felt that if I kept the beard any longer, it would start becoming a hindrance in the grieving process. It would have changed from an outward sign of my grief to shackles of grief keeping me chained to one place.

You can't stay in one place with grief, you have to keep moving. 

Sometimes you go back to places you've already been. And that's okay, as long as you keep moving.

I also decided that if I was going to trim the beard, I needed to mark the occasion with something more involved than a careful soundtrack selection.

So, I decided it was time to visit the Maria Stein Shrine of the Holy Relics in Maria Stein, Ohio that I've always wanted to go to.

Surprise surprise, the religious dude wanted to do something spiritual to commemorate a big moment in his life.


I had a very good visit.

I went through the museum.

I went on the guided tour. (led by a nun)

I spent time in prayer in a chapel with 1,000 relics!

...Including three pieces of the True Cross.

I attended the noon prayer service.

I toured the statues on the grounds.

I wept as I prayed at the statue of Saint Jude.

I bought goodies in the gift shop. (Catholics have the best gift shops.)

And then I came home.

It was everything I could have asked for. A good morning of prayer and reflection.

Now, two of my best buds are coming over to record podcasts one last time at the Abner Ranch. Fun will be had.

The beard is gone, the journey continues...

Grace and Peace,
Robert