Tag: new possibilities

Melon makes me cry!

Memories at Christmas!

Recent weeks have been tricky. I love the season of Advent- the anticipation, the candles, the wonder, as we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ with the world. It is such a beautiful time of the year, filled with hope and possibility.

However it is also so very poignant. It is difficult not to look back and remember past Christmases, and remember those no longer with you. I am at an age where my Christmas card list has shrunk, because a number of my friends are no longer here. And the number of empty places at the table has meant that a table is barely required.

Melon makes me cry, because my mum loved melon. After her surgeries 8 years ago, she was often thirsty, and when she had melon, her whole face lit up, and she enjoyed it so much. I so enjoyed buying her melon.

Now I see melon in the supermarket, and I am all ready to put it in my basket, and then stop. My mum passed away in September, and she doesn’t need melon anymore. My emotional muscle memory wants to keep buying it though, and is just a strand of the sharp pain of loss. For the newly bereaved, so many things make us cry.

Advent is still a wonderful time, and we are reminded that Jesus is our Emmanuel, the God who is with us. He understands our grief, and we do not need to pretend with him. The light of the candle flame is more meaningful when you have sat in deep darkness.

Intellectually, I understand that this will eventually become a time of forming new traditions and possibilities. But right now, I just need space to sit in the darkness. I have found with emotional pain, my body often reflects that, and so three weeks ago my shoulder started to hurt. After seeing my wonderful osteopath and a physio it is getting better, but the pain of my shoulder seemed to somehow embody the pain of my heart. I so admire people who manage to live well with chronic pain, because for me even just some physical pain for a short time, I have found exhausting and debilitating.

In psalm 147:3 it says: God heals the broken hearted, and binds up their wounds’. For people whose hearts are sore at Christmas, we are reminded that we have a Saviour who cares, who came to offer salvation to all, forgiveness, love and a new beginning. It doesn’t happen overnight, for healing is gradual, messy and chaotic, but even the possibility of healing, the idea that the pain might ease, and peace come, brings hope.

Gracious and Eternal God, under the shadow of your wings, comes shelter and healing. For all who are sore, whose dreams are shattered, may they find healing nestling in your arms of love. Lord Jesus, Babe of Bethlehem, you weep over the pain and heartbreak of many, whose lives are upside down, who despair and cry out to You. Emmanuel come to us, to all who cry out to You, and may Your presence enable tears of pain to be transformed to tears of relief and thanksgiving. Holy spirit, thankyou that we are never alone, that You hold us in these in between shadow times, until we find courage to re-emerge into the world once more. Meantime, may the prayers and encouragement of family and friends bring blessing and even peace, Amen.

Legacy of love.

Today is the anniversary of the booklaunch of ‘Love song for a wounded warrior’. I am so grateful for all who have been so supportive, prayerful and understanding to our story. That has made such a difference.

I started writing Colin’s story because I was journalling. I have kept a prayer journal for many years. When Colin became too unwell to complete his writings, I wanted to use my writings to give context to his words, to try to explain that they were fragments of his experiences, because over time to lost the capacity to relate his memories. I hope to eventually feel a sense of completion to have honoured his wishes in this way. Thankyou to all of you for helping me do this.

One of the things I learned about Colin’s complex military traumas was that he felt better when he told his story, was heard and understood. He felt alive telling stories about his experiences, whether it was a critical incident or a car bomb. And so there is something so powerful about sharing something of your interior life, and being heard, even if just by one person.

For me, Colin has left a legacy of love. He showed me what courage looked like, humour in the face of distress, defiance against the odds, faith in no man’s land, in a bleak and desolate territory of nothingness.

So, now I have to ask God to continue my healing, and remind me of my purpose to let these experiences enable me to in turn support others. I want to use my legacy learnings for good in the world. God is guiding me through this process, and I am so grateful. One of my learnings is that I really enjoy writing, and I want to continue this, at least for this season. I think I want to write some more contemplative pieces also, so there might be more variety in what I offer.

In the ‘Four Quartets’ T S Eliot wrote ‘ in my end is my beginning’. The circularity of life cycles is striking, and I pray that for all of us, in the midst of grief and painful endings, new buds and new life will emerge.

I often go back to the words of Jesus in John chapter 12:24 ‘ I tell you the truth, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.’

This helps me make sense of life, for sometimes dreams, familiar ways of thinking, even people have to die. But in the mystery of all things, there gradually emerges new life and possibilities.

For anyone struggling with trauma, fear and grief, I desire healing and new possibilities for you. It is a difficult road, but our Saviour walks with us, and we explore the legacy of His love forever.

Gracious God, You know all things, You love us, and redeem our life from the pit, and crown us with love and compassion. When we are in that dark pit however, we grumble and complain and cry out to You, for we feel scared and alone. And through the cross, Lord Jesus, You offer us cleansing, and forgiveness and acceptance. You embrace us with the blanket of your love, and keep us safe. May we humbly receive your grace. Give us courage to tell our story, and to find our healing. May your holy spirit help us honour legacies of love, and use our learnings and insights to he an encouragement and blessing to others, Amen.