That is a ridiculous understatement. It's been an relentless week. I am exhausted, though I am content that it was work well done. But I have missed my home and my family. My dear, darling husband coaxed me home via a phone call tonight, telling me that it was all worth it. The time away matters, he said, because it was for work that became such a blessing to so many through the church.
Is it possible to receive such encouragement from the very one who was robbed the most? What a gift I have been given...
We held two Blue Christmas services this week. Tuesday night we were hosted by a traditional church in a neighboring town. I only knew about half the people in attendance. We offered a gentle blessing, the gift of our music and a brilliant message from our pastor. Grace covered us.
Tonight, we did the same service at our facility in Powhatan. We were "home" and there was a different sense of calm amidst the grief, something that spoke of safety and security. I love the people I work with through PCC, and to share music with John and Lindsay tonight, to weave "O Come O Come Emmanuel" around Jackie's recitation of a deeply hued Emily Dickinson poem - these things gave my heart a cushion.
|Eric Heebner, my friend|
In honor of Eric, I am seeking peace tonight. Contemplating his death, I consider the opportunity for life that we still have; the things left undone and unsaid. How many others will slip the bonds of this life and move on to the next, taking with them a small piece of my heart? It will happen again and again, and we will mourn again and again.
And the sun will rise again, and again, and then again. And we will be left to consider all that remains.