Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts

Monday, November 5, 2018

Birthing Hope


As a bi-vocational priest, it sometimes seems like opportunities to act in the "official" capacity are few and far between. Yet, when those opportunities arise, there is a joy that bubbles up inside me that cannot be described other than to say, I feel blessed. The month of October brought me two weddings this year, both of which took place outdoors. One was held in the White Mountains on a rainy day in the woods; the other, just a week later, took place at the foot of the Superstition Mountains in the center of a labyrinth. While one of these weddings was completely secular, the other included references to the Divine; yet both couples held Handfasting Ribbons and bound one another to promises. Both ceremonies were glorious. Both couples look forward to long, happy relationships. I am thrilled to have been a part of their big days.

I am preparing to print out a brochure with descriptions and pricing for services I provide in the capacity of priest. It's a little discomfiting, to think of these things from a business perspective. I am a person who deals in human compassion, empathy, and love. You really cannot put a price tag on these things. However, one must also make a living, and our time and effort are worth something. The "day job" provides income and insurance, but being in a social services position is not particularly financially lucrative. It's taken me a long time to bring myself to being able to set a cost to the ministerial services I provide. Now that I've done it, I've procrastinated on printing it out. By rights, it should have been delivered to the local wedding venues and other places before this "snowbird" season in the Southwest began last month. This is how I sabotage myself, isn't it. One of a million ways...

Brigid in the Desert hosted an in-person gathering every month for the first 2/3 of this year. When there were two or more of us sitting together at a table in discussion, it was awesome. Unfortunately, we are a small group of individuals with a variety of challenges. Toward the end of summer, some of our physical challenges made it difficult to meet in person. Instead, we have been chatting on the Facebook page and in the Facebook group, Brigid in the Desert Discussions. We have talked about everything from pain and spiritual experience to our interactions with those who have crossed beyond the veil from this world into the next. We are a diverse, fun, and hopeful group. Feel free to join us!

Now it's November. The Wheel of the Year has taken us past Samhain and the beginning of new life after the death of summer. We head into a time of deliberate thanksgiving, at least here in the United States, as well as a conversation around the meaning of that "First Thanksgiving" and our relationships with the Indigenous people of this land. There is much to wrestle with.

The nights are darkening earlier and we notice a chill in the air, even here in the Sonoran Desert. In the mountains and across the northern parts of the globe, the scent of ice and snow reinvigorates our senses and reminds us of cozy childhood evenings and Yuletide dreams. No matter our religious or spiritual heritage, there are memories of gifts and light and new hope that is born at the end of the calendar year. The Wheel turns. We grow older. Sometimes we forget the power of that innocent hope. At this time of year, we can be reminded of it; it can be reborn in us, if we let it.

If there is anything Americans -- and many others around the world -- can use right now, it's a newborn hope. Let's let it be born in us!

Let us birth a new hope.

Friday, September 26, 2014

The Deepest Place

I’ve found it.  That place.  You know, that place Frederick Buechner calls “the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.”  My place.  It’s been there all along, and I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to find it.



A few weeks ago I started my first unit of Clinical Pastoral Education.  CPE is a combination of classroom learning and discussion and hands-on experience as a Chaplain Intern in a hospital setting.  On one of my early regular shifts, I knew.  I only had a couple of hours to work, so I went to one of my assigned floors to introduce myself and see a couple of patients.  Mine are the baby floors.  Labor and Delivery, Ante-Partum, and Couplet Care, where the mommies and babies go before they leave the hospital.  Of course, when I’m On Call, I am all over the hospital.  This day, though, with as little time as I had, I was on my own floors.



That night, I found myself praying for a baby, born too soon, and her mourning parents.  I had hardly left the room when I was paged by the On Call Chaplain to provide a viewing of someone who had passed away for a loved one.  One would think a night like that would send a newcomer reeling, but instead I found myself rejuvenated, knowing I had been given the chance to be with someone in their deepest hour of need.



Since that night, I’ve rejoiced with birth parents and adoptive parents, prayed with adult children who have lost their parents, and sat with people recovering from surgery, others preparing for surgery, and yet others who would be out of the emergency room before the night was through.



No matter what kind of day or night I have at the hospital, I know that I will bring peace to at least one person.  I give something, yet I take away so much more.



The day I walked down the hall in the hospital, holding on to my bright pink folder, and realized that I had come to the crux of my spirituality, the trajectory of my life changed.  The trajectory of my ministry became clear.  The clarity of this vision brings a change to the mission of St. Brigid in the Desert.



I will be spending some time in prayer as I discern where St. Brigid will be heading.  Certainly, I will continue to offer Spiritual Direction and Life Celebration services.  How I will approach this from the standpoint of the church will reveal itself in time.



I’d like to share with you a poem I wrote from my experiences in chaplaincy so far.  It is as yet untitled.



I’ve seen the pallid

Face of death

Eyes mere shadowed

Memories of dreams;

Once imagined thought

Of what might have been

I’ve heard the screams

Of midlife child

Unprepared for loss

Of reconciliation, door

Closed for half a life

Will never open now

I’ve held the hand

Of childless mother

Once-filled womb now empty,

And arms aching to hold, and

Tears shed for the

Life that might have been

I, who lend my ear, my hand

My heart, pray

Spirit brings peace

When even I cannot

Feel Her Presence

In other rooms, beyond

Newborns cry

And mothers shed

Tears of joy and fear

For the fragile life

Placed in their hands

New Hope

In the midst of sorrow



© 18 September 2014



Blessings to all of you as we enter into a new season.