6/21/15

After a Week Like Last Week...

It's been two weeks since my last reflection. I find myself still trying to avoid the practice of reflecting; yet, at the same time being thankful for its invitation. I feel as if it is God's ongoing pursuit of me and for that my heart trembles. This has been a particularly difficult week for me. As I reflect back on it, I see more tender mercies and goodness of God than anything else, but all of it is intertwined with the sufferings of this life and the holy invitation they bring us to know Him more.

This week an aunt of mine died. She died suddenly and it came out of nowhere, to the family. I didn't know my aunt well but was speechless and heartbroken at the news when my uncle told me. My heart came out of my chest as I heard the lostness of his voice as he said she had died. I've never had a chance to get to know any of my extended family well, but this aunt and uncle hold a special place in my heart because when I finally got to come to South Carolina, after being gone for over 30 years, they put my husband and I up and we spent a night there with them a couple of years back. To me, it felt a little out of my comfort zone and as if I was staying with strangers. To them, we were family. As the minister spoke at the funeral, he shared that this gift of hospitality and making people family was a special gift of my aunt and uncle's and she would be sorely missed for it. That day, I visited with my uncle and just listened as he talked about the first real vacation him and his wife had planned for next week. He talked about the first spontaneous thing they had really done in their marriage, just a few months back, as they took a trip to the mountains in North Carolina. I listened as he talked about retiring a few years from now and the things they had looked forward to. As I drove home, I wept for him and rejoiced also as I thought, there but for the grace of God go I.


People who know me know how hard I work and what a huge portion of my heart I give to my family and the world around me. I have a supervisor who reminds me a minimum of once a quarter that my tombstone will not read, "Lisa DeCandia great Bereavement Coordinator". My grandsons crawl up in my lap and snuggle up against me, reminding me to put my phone down and turn my computer off. The family's phone calls, texts, and the sound of their voices at the end of the work day invite me to leave my work at the office. Some days I do very good at this, but overall, as I consider the sudden death of my aunt this week and the story of my uncle as he talked about their plans, I see how much better I can do at this. There are only 24 hours in a day. In that day, so many hours must be filled with sleep, outside of that I determine how to use those hours. Unfortunately, I have found that in those hours there are never enough for me to get everything done, no matter how hard I work something always goes undone until the next day. Many days I lay down to sleep at night and begin to consider my agenda for the next day. Even now as I write this, I feel the weariness as it stretches it's fingers through my mind and wraps like a wet blanket around my body. I can't help but recall an eternal invitation that beckons me like the sweet smell of fragrance on a door knob, drifting up through the window on the soft summer breeze, "I will lead you beside still waters. I will restore your soul."

His voice continues, soft as the twilight as it gathers in the night sky, "Come unto Me all you who labor and are heavy laden. I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, for My yoke is easy and My burden is light." I lay my head back against the chair as I am writing. I close my eyes. The deep cleansing breaths go in deeply, moving beyond the rise and fall of my chest to push their way beyond the diaphragm and down to the tips of my toes. Holding it but for a moment, the cleansing breath feels me and I slowly begin to exhale as I imagine what it means to be wrapped in the arms of grace, to be caught in the ocean, drifting upon the waves of Your mercy. To begin a day with You...To know You have ordered my steps...not me doing it myself and asking You to bless the order of them...To be able to lay my head down to sleep at night, content in the knowledge that all left undone waiting to greet me upon the sunrise of tomorrow is nothing more than a shadow of that which You have packaged for another time. To catch the laughter of a grandbaby...feel the warmth of my husband's hand as we swing on the front porch in the cooling evening air...hear the sound of love when her voice fills the phone to say goodnight and "I love you mom"...or just to know the strength of my dog's love as she curls up against me in the night...I don't want to look back and tell the story of when I was going to do these things. I want to have the memory of these tender mercies I am granted, not the missed opportunities because of the things I pursued. I am but a work in progress and though I am saddened beyond belief at my aunt's passing, I am thankful for yet another beautiful lesson this woman of God gave me on the gift of life, love, and family.