All That Is Left

"I have dreams where our souls dance with our silhouettes and the only light that exists is the reflection of the moon across the sea.  I have dreams where it is just you and me and we are infinite, and we are careless, and we are brave as the waves crash like burning ashes against our tired feet."  Christopher Poindexter

 We live in a broken world.  I often feel imprisoned in my own flesh.  A body that grows older each day, new pains, new marks.  I believe that is why it is only temporary.  I thank God every day for that.  I believe this world is made for our souls to grow. I believe we choose to come here to learn, teach, serve our purpose, and then go home to our creator.  John taught me so much in our time together.   He was one of the few people I knew who was cut off from social media and most technology.  His world consisted of the trees, the rivers, his guitar and old books.  He owned a flip phone for emergency use only.  I knew no one like him, yet I felt so drawn to his energy.  This was a curiosity that continued to grow even after his death.  

Did he truly serve his purpose?  I am sure many have wondered how a young man who was just starting his life could have completed everything he was meant to come here for.  I've had some tell me, "What a waste."  Was it though?  His impact on this world was pretty significant for such a young man, effecting so many people who are still here.  Did he choose this life?  This is something I ask myself every day, yet it seems to be the only way I can justify his death.  

In three days, it will be  March 9th.  It will mark 2 years since John lost his life that day on the Smith River.  I haven't been myself for the last few weeks.  I feel sleep deprived, my chest is tight, my headaches are back.  I feel agitated and cranky, as if I am on the verge of snapping.  The month of March seems to turn me into someone I am not so fond of.  She takes over and suddenly, I don't feel as light or joyful anymore.  It felt as if the world had stopped turning that day.  I remember everything.  Every detail, every feeling, and the desperation that seemed to suffocate me as each hour passed.  It became a living nightmare within minutes.  

When we lose someone so close to us, we are forced to walk through mile stones in the years to come.  Birthdays, wedding anniversaries, holidays.  I have been able to look back during many mile stones throughout the last 2 years and remember something beautiful.  These memories are ingrained in me, and I sometimes speak of them as if he is still here.  Maybe it is easier that way.  March 9th is a  mile stone that has no beauty, no hope, yet I and many others are still forced to walk through it every year and remember.

These physical reactions to me, are not of God.  Reliving someone's death over and over again truly gets you no where.  I have found that if anything, I push God out during these times and I let the darkness take over.  This leads to anger, regret, resentment towards others.  I let myself become a victim of this loss.  I lash out at others, people I care about.  Nothing good comes from that.  I've learned this lesson a few times over the last 2 years, and I am sure I will continue to battle this darkness in the days to come.  I've learned to recognize when my mind and heart go there, acknowledge it and try and change direction.  For what other choice is there?  Rage and anger don't bring them back.

We live in a world full of judgement, stress, hatred, fighting.  There are times I feel as if the choice to love has been cast aside.  It's amazing to me what can ruin a person's day.  Traffic, waiting on food, a flight cancellation, the wrong paint color.  The list goes on and on.  I see couples snap at each other and pick each other apart.  Two people together yet not engaged at all, glued to a phone.  It makes me cringe every time.  I often wonder if they even know what they have.

All that is left are bone fragments and ash that can rest in my hands.  I have pictures that remind me he was once real, breathing, a heart beat, talking, alive.  I have one voice mail left.  I have go pros's from his time on the river.  These items became like fine gold to me.  Yet they are just items.  Physical ghosts.  They don't talk back.  They don't fill the void.  The things that used to upset me and distract me when John was alive completely disgust me now.  None of it mattered.  

My questions to those choosing to read my words are this.  Are you alive?   Are your loved ones alive?  Are you engaged with them?  Are you present?  Do those around you know how much you love them?  Is love the first choice?  Do you know your creator and the incredible love this universe has for you?  Have you asked?

These questions became daily for me after losing my husband. These questions will continue to make me a better woman, a stronger woman not only for myself but for those I love, those that are still here.  A woman that can serve her purpose the right way and then go home.

So March 9th will come and go and people will remember him.  I will get up and go to work that day, eyes ahead with a smile on my face.  I won't relive his death.  I may not even cry.  What I will do is be present with those still here, and remember those that have been so incredibly kind and loving to me over the past 2 years.  Those that took risk that day to recover him.  Those that called me every day, sat with me in silence, were available at all hours of the night.  Those that have continued to honor him and take their own adventures.  I will think of the many friends, family, and strangers that have continued to impact me over the last 2 years.  Most importantly I'll say thank you to my creator for carrying me every single day and choosing love for me regardless of my rage, my anger, my resentment. For without that I would be nothing.  

Let what is left in my hands be a reminder that we are only here for a short amount of time.  So remember those that are still here.  Remember to show love.  Remember to look around and be present.  Put your hope in eternity, where home truly is.  For when we truly do that, all that is left is just a reminder of what is to come, a place we'll all be reunited one day, where love is the only choice.

Crawling

"What you seek is seeking you."  Rumi

I am starting to believe that we speak truth to the realities around us.  I believe we can create the realities we feel we deserve.

This truth can have a negative effect as well.  There have been times in my life where I felt I wasn't good enough for a promotion, worthy enough of a relationship, smart enough for a certain school, cool enough for a friend.  Looking back over these different experiences, I have realized that I myself created those realities.  There was no one to blame but me for these moments of self-doubt. 

 We have the ability to speak truth to where we are, what we are doing, who we become.  We also have the ability to speak truth to our realities when the unexpected happens, when a chapter comes to an end, a door closes that we did not foresee.  I have learned over the last 23 months that I can choose how to use my pain, and what the outcome of my loss will be.  Every morning has been a choice since John died.

A few months after losing John, I began to ask myself two questions every morning.  "What kind of woman am I?"  "What kind of life would I like to have?"

I am a woman that is meant to love and be loved.  I have been speaking truth to this every morning since John died.  The greatest gift I believe God has given me in my 32 years here on earth, is the ability to love.  There is nothing greater or more precious than this.  

I met Tristan this past summer during an evening in Fayetteville that included sliders and beers with friends.  Tristan had just moved to the area from California to work at the local bike shop in town and work as a seasonal mountain bike guide in the gorge.  Tristan's love for Fayetteville was so big he decided to stay for the year.  Over the summer, into the fall, into the winter, we became great friends.  We got to know each other through adventuring into the outdoors whether it was on our mountain bikes, hiking, cooking meals, rescuing a starving cat, discussing books, and more.  Tristan was one of the few new individuals in my life that I felt instantly comfortable opening up about my love for John, and letting him truly know about our story.

Over the course of time, I've told Tristan how we met, the different adventures we took, what drew me to John, the struggles we had together and separately.  I've even told Tristan what it has been like to be forced to live without him, how desperate it felt to search for him, the experience of seeing John after he was gone.  I always noticed after each conversation that Tristan never seemed uncomfortable with these talks, in fact it was just the opposite.  He was encouraging of my raw honesty, my love for God, and my never ending love for John.  On multiple interactions, Tristan would tell me that John is a part of me, and will always be with me, nothing can take that away.  I always found those words so comforting coming from him.

Tristan is kind, incredibly funny, conscious, authentic, handsome, and full of love.  His heart is huge and I feel that the aroma of God's love is all around him.  I believe this aroma is so strong, my eyes and heart have become more and more drawn to the strong man that he is. 

The first time he kissed me, I wanted to cry and laugh in unison.  To feel drawn to give love to someone alive, in front of you who radiates love, yet also know that you are so deeply in love with someone who is gone is by far the strangest feeling I have ever experienced.   I desperately miss my husband.  I adore Tristan.  I would give the air in my lungs to hear and touch John again, yet I feel curious and excited for the path I am on with Tristan.  I am deeply in love and always will be with John, yet I feel that in many ways, I already love Tristan for the man he is. Letting Tristan in feels sometimes as if my heart is being pulled apart, grasping so tightly to my past.  Yet at the same time, my heart feels as if it is bursting, shocked and overwhelmed with the fact that I am capable of feeling anything again.  

Tristan said something to me after we recognized that this could be more than just a great friendship.  He told me that as we grow together, we won't fall in love, we instead would crawl into love.  As I experience this new relationship, this new chapter, I am realizing how right Tristan is.  Tristan has become my great friend over the last 9 months.  A friendship love developed over that course of time, that very slowly has moved into a companionship that I believe we are both crawling through now.  It is new, exciting and terrifying all at the same time.  

I recognize every morning when I reflect on the day ahead that I may hurt him, not because I want to, but because I don't know if I will ever fully let go.  I am not sure I am capable.  I feel as if John's death hardened my heart in many ways, and allowing myself to feel that incredible joy and excitement the way I used to seems impossible at times.  I recognize that I may project my pain towards him, compare the two, I may push him away.  We may be another written tragedy like so many failed relationships.  I realize that my situation is not for everyone, and I love Tristan for taking both the light and the darkness on that encompasses me.  

Love for my creator did not always come first during my time with John.  I idolized John, and always made him my first priority.  This wasn't John's fault at all, I just loved him so much that his mere existence felt like my life source.  My means for survival in this world.   I was younger and my faith was not as strong.  I absolutely believed God was real during our time, but I didn't recognize his love for me, his magnitude, how incredible his love feels when you look towards him first. 

This was a tough lesson for me to learn after John died and a regret I have to live with.  I wasn't bold in my faith with John and while I tried to be an example to him, I often feel I failed at this because he was always first on my list.  My time with John always came before my time with God.  Always putting him first did not reflect God's love, if anything it sometimes pushed God away and took God out of the relationship which was dangerous.  I don't believe God punished me for this by removing John from my life, but I do believe he has asked me to reflect on this and consider how things could have been better.  I believe John is reflecting with me in his new chapter as well.

I think this kind of recognition is really important regardless of your beliefs.  This recognition saves relationships.  Love for yourself, love for the universe, and recognition that we are all withering away, we are simply human.  Idolizing the flesh is dangerous, for it simply can't be your life source.  The flesh is not sustainable. I learned this through losing John and for me, it was truly recognizing how much more powerful God's love is for me and how that is the greatest love I will ever experience.  My means of survival is now through my creator, which gives me the heart to love again, and love with more gratitude and truth.

 "She is clothed in strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.  She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.  Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.  Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who loves the Lord is to be praised."  Proverbs 31

That is the kind of woman I want to be with Tristan and because of my sweet John, yet more importantly because of my creator, I believe it is possible.  I believe John would have really liked Tristan.  I believe that God's love radiates over Tristan.  So I will keep crawling every morning, every night with hope in my heart that new joy, new love, is indeed possible with eyes on my creator.

  I believe that starts with speaking truth to this new chapter, and being bold and honest to those that chose to read this without fear of judgment, fear of opinion, fear of comparison.  This is my truth.

Tristan, thank you for choosing to crawl with me.  Regardless of our outcome, I'll be a better woman because of this time with you.

Dear Sir

To read this piece, please visit Feminine Collective at

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Thank you!

Erin Wilburn

No One Told Us

To read this piece, please visit the following website:

http://femininecollective.com/no-one-told-us/

Thank you!

Erin Wilburn

God Take My Rage

"I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky, and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea."  Rumi



Rage.  Wikipedia describes the word as a feeling of intense, violent or growing anger.  It is sometimes associated with the "fight or flight" response to an external cue, such as an event that impacts negatively on a person.

Rage lives within me, I believe it lives within all of us.   Maybe three weeks after John died, I had a sudden out burst of rage that was so abrupt, so loud, it frightened me.  It felt involuntary, as if I was possessed for a few minutes.  I attempted to go mountain biking after returning to Oregon and had an issue with my bike that I couldn't seem to fix.  I'm not sure when exactly I snapped, but I threw my bike and gave out a blood curling scream.  I screamed at John.  I screamed at God.  I remember Jake hovering by a tree, terrified of me.  I told myself after that day that I wouldn't do that again, I would control my anger, I would push it away and find distraction when feeling irate.

I've learned that anger is a big part of grief.  While I question it's productivity, I know it exist within us.  When anger surfaces, we turn into something different.  Something dark.  We move away from the best version of ourselves through anger.

I’ve been gone for the past week between work and visiting a dear friend.  During my travels,  I spent a week in Richmond where John and I met and lived together for a few years.  I have found that by the end of a week in Richmond I feel exhausted.  It's as if my past is taunting me.  Everything is so familiar yet empty.  I adore my friends in Richmond but I'm always glad to leave.  On Sunday, I had to drive right through the town John grew up in on my way home from Harper's Ferry  for the first time since 2013.  I think that may have been the final trigger.  I felt him everywhere, and I became angry.  I pulled over and just stared out at the ridge you can see from his parents house and thought about how much life had changed in the last 21 months.   

John and I made many trips up to the Shenandoah Valley whether it was on our way to a kayaking destination or spending the weekend with his family.  I loved coming up here.  I loved seeing where John spent his boyhood days and I absolutely loved the comfort of the rolling mountains everywhere you looked.  I stared at that ridge knowing I’d never come back here again unless passing through.  I’d never step foot in his childhood home again.  This sense of family that we both had here was destroyed. I got back in my car and let my rage completely erupt.  I yelled things I shouldn’t have said.  These words- irrational outburst that made no sense.   

Shortly after John died, I felt an instant need to protect him, protect his choices.  For the longest time I remember telling people that John was well within his limits that day, that I had no issues with him kayaking.  I didn't want my husband to be viewed as reckless or irresponsible.  I didn't want people speaking of him in any negative way.  I even blamed myself for a long time, telling myself if only I had gone kayaking, they never would have done this harder section.  The truth.  No one should have kayaked that day, regardless of expert level.  At the rate the levels were climbing, the nature of each rapid was completely unpredictable.  Swimming was not an option.  I told John these things during our drive to the Smith.  He told me I was being silly.  He told me I was too paranoid.   He told me to relax, that things would be fine.  He should have listened to me.  

These are realities I'm still learning to come to terms with.  Accepting choices that were made that day.  I've let my rage explode at John for these choices.  For the predicament he left me in.  For not putting me first.  For telling me I was silly.  For thinking he was invincible.  I think sometimes when we lose someone so close to us, we tend to view them in a God like fashion.  They go up onto a self created pedestal that becomes impossible to compete with.  This is dangerous and leads to unrealistic expectations for our future.  John was my husband, not my God. 

"The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart."  Psalm 34:18

This morning I laid in bed considering my anger.  I thought about how my heart seems to turn angry over the holidays.  I thought about my judgment towards others and their happiness.  How I take their great outcomes personally, how I find their cute Christmas cards offensive and taunting.  It sounds horrible writing it, but it's the truth.  My heart seems to turn dark during this time of the year.

I wondered if at any point Jesus felt rage and simply put it away.  Was he angry at the world at any point, was he angry at his father?  He certainly didn't deserve the suffering he had to endure.  At one point, he even begged his father to take his suffering away, take the burden from him.  Yet instead, not only did he endure his own crucifixion, but he begged forgiveness on those that hurt him.  Its why we now can have this intimate relationship with him.  It's why my rage can be destroyed and overcome with joy.

My husband was a risk taker.  He marched to a different beat.  He pushed the limits often too much.  His need for adrenaline, for adventure, what ultimately led to his death and my fierce rage, is also the very thing that drew me to him.  It's what made me fall hard and fast.  It's what hardened my heart, yet also softened it.  I knew this about him, yet I was all in.  I wanted his heart of flame, for it made me feel alive.

Rage is not of God.  The anger that festers after loss comes from something dark.  Rage can become who you are after loss, if you let the darkness take over.  It can harden your heart, turn you into a cynical, morbid person.  I've seen this side within myself, and I don't like her.  I turned my rage over to God this past week, and I am sure I will do this a few times in the years to come.  For this is a part of being human, being vulnerable to the darkness, but also recognizing it's little worth, knowing it's source and the zero credibility it deserves.  Rage will destroy you if you allow it to.

I want love over the rage.  I choose indescribable, heart bursting, unapologetic love for John, for myself, for my family and friends over the rage.   I refuse to be a victim to the anger.  God can take my rage and destroy it, it's my choice to give it to him.  I believe this is the only choice, the most clear choice there is.

Lean In

"And me, I remain alone.  Entangled in my love affair with solitude."  Natalia Crow

I get a lot of phone calls throughout the week from different people at work.  Part of my job consist of giving guidance, direction and recommendations to people every single day.  I received a phone call  last Monday with what I thought would be a typical work day question.  Instead, this individual started the question with, “Well, it’s personal.”  I wasn’t sure what to expect.  He wanted to know how I spend so much time alone.  How is it possible to be alone, yet not feel completely lonely and depressed he asked. I have to admit, his question stunned me at first, no one has ever asked me that before.  I briefly wondered if my aloneness was apparent to him.  I also inappropriately laughed, but then realized he was serious and wanted some guidance.  My quick response was to make him laugh by telling him to get off his butt and get involved in the community he lives in.  Take action.  Throw yourself into something.  My advice for the day completed.

Oddly, I found myself going back to his question throughout this past week, wondering what circumstances led him to needing guidance.  What did the bigger picture entail for him?  The more I considered his question, I found myself considering two additional questions. Do you like who you are?  Do you enjoy hanging out with you? 

Continuing to work through the Konmari method, I believe I’ve been asked to take a deep look at myself and all that creates me.  It may seem odd, but I’ve found myself becoming more aware of my body and what an incredible machine it is.  Thanking my hands for the constant work they do, appreciating how quickly they work.  Thanking my feet for carrying me every single day.  Thankful for my health, my physical strength, my freckles that define my face.  We are with ourselves every day, every second.  We are our most consistent presence.  Our bodies work so hard to support us and I’m realizing how much it goes unnoticed.  It is the most valuable thing we will ever own out right. It is given to us the day we are born.  Our most present and consistent  physical possession.  With something that valuable, are we happy with it?

I think we as human’s naturally put full reliance into other human’s which is dangerous.  I am guilty of this human reliance.  I did this with John.  It wasn’t until after he was gone that I felt the need to face those two questions, when really I should have faced them years and years ago before entering into any deep love for someone else.  When we are in a relationship, we don’t always take a hard look at ourselves, our interest, our dreams, what our bodies are doing.  We are a part of someone else, everything is WE.  We become reliant to a fault.   I seem to now notice this more than ever with couples all the time.  This constant reliance on each other as a way to survive in this world.  As a way to feel happy, to be complete.

 In this new chapter of my life, there are many things I must do for myself that John may have done in the past.  There is no man to carry my bags, help me put my luggage in the overhead compartment, change my headlights,  reach that one thing I’m too short to grab, fix my bike, throw my kayak on the car, make dinner for me.  If I don’t do them or pay someone to do them they won’t happen.  We put so much stock and need into others, yet we are all so easily disposable, all withering away on different time tables.  Maybe it sounds morbid for me to say that, but it’s true.  So why do we do that when we have the hard facts?  Why is the thought of being alone with ourselves so frightening at times? 

Shortly after John died, I found myself having anxiety after work and on Friday afternoon when the weekend was approaching.  Most people rejoice when they get off work, I found myself completely dreading it without John.   It was like I was afraid of me, afraid of having to face me and spend time with me.  I didn’t want to spend time with myself or listen.  I just wanted a constant distraction, someone to rely on, someone to spend time with.  I sure as hell didn’t want me.  I think it’s why widows and widowers or those going through divorce or a broken relationship tend to jump too quickly into another relationship, later to find that it fails because it was simply a distraction from yourself.  When I moved to Fayetteville last July, I met a guy that was incredibly friendly and charming, giving me a huge welcome to the small town I chose as home.  I found myself spending more and more time with him and at one point I thought I actually felt more than just a friendship for him.   The conversation flowed so easily and he was the first stranger I really spoke to about John.  Needless to say, one night my need for distraction caught up with me.  I became confused and extremely depressed.  My desire to spend time with him had everything to do with how much I ached for John.  I poured my time into hanging out with him because I didn’t want to feel my loss, my pain.  I didn’t want the silence.  I didn’t want to consider the details of my relationship with John, the good and the bad.  I wanted none of that. Choices like that aren’t sustainable and people get hurt that way.   I hurt him through my own fear of aloneness.  I used him to fill an impossible void that no human could fill. 

The last 20 months I’ve taken a hard look at me, the woman I am, the woman I’ve found, and have asked myself that simple question.  Do I like me?  Do I like hanging out with just me? I believe our ability to answer these questions comfortably can define our human experience here on earth.  Answering these questions requires an acceptance of solitude.  It requires us to tap into the silence and listen to our own vibrant thoughts.  These questions ask us to remove the distractions, remove the quick fixes, the cheap thrills, and to spend time with us in all our thoughts, our pains, our dreams.

 I enjoy pouring a glass of wine, making myself dinner and watching an episode of The Walking Dead.   I can laugh pretty hard  by myself at something silly at least once a day.  I enjoy sitting in my lounge chair and reading a mystery thriller.  I love walking through the woods with Jake while listening to a sermon from my church in Grants Pass.  I’ve taught myself to  play the guitar and change my own mountain bike tires.  Cooking is a true passion of mine.  I’m a neat freak and am totally OK with it even though I believe it is border line obsessive compulsive disorder.  I dance to Beyonce a lot.  I truly enjoy reading scripture every morning.  I day dream about personal business ideas.  I believe my passion falls in the form of outdoors, leadership and project management, just not sure how to pull those together yet.  Mountain biking is the best physical release for me and kayaking is different now and I’m accepting that.  I love the comfort of my home and simply being in it.  Writing is a true grief release for me.  These are just a few of many things I’ve discovered through my solitude.  Through getting to know me.

Learning to love me goes deeper though.  As a believer in a loving higher power, the last 20 months for me has been learning to listen to his spirit that lives within me. To acknowledge this presence through everything, both simple and complex.  Having gratitude for the many blessings in my life, not the pain.  Acknowledging his work every day whether it was a safe drive, a good night sleep, a productive day at work, a phone call from a friend, extra strength.  I’ve learned that love for oneself allows you to give genuine love to others.  It allows you to help others that need you.  It grows something soft in you that allows compassion and empathy to come forward.  Truly loving yourself also lets you know in your gut when you’re wrong, when you're judging, when you’re hurting others.  Love for yourself shows you that you don't need a husband or wife, boyfriend or girlfriend for survival or for completeness.  Instead, loving yourself makes those relationships with others the strongest and healthiest they will ever be.  It makes you genuinely want it, not simply need it out of fear of being alone.

"There is no fear in love.  But perfect loves drives out fear."  1 John 4:18

So if I could truly answer my co-worker and friend’s question, I believe I would answer it with another question.  Have you gotten to know you and the incredible love the universe has for you?  For that love is indefinite, it is not fading, it will be with you beyond any human experience.  So lean into the solitude and silence and spend time with you. 

Jars of Clay

“For God who said, ‘Let light shine out of the darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all surpassing power is from God and not from us.  We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.  We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.  For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body.  So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.  It is written, “I believed; therefore I have spoken.”  All of this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause Thanksgiving to over flow to the glory of our creator.  Therefore, we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”  2 Corinthians 4

My mom asked me a few days before Thanksgiving if I would do the blessing for our family this year.  I agreed to this feeling I would more than likely wing it two wine glasses in before dinner.  What can I say, my family has always enjoyed participating in cocktail hour before big meals and during the holidays with big family gatherings this is something I enjoy as well.

This Thanksgiving  morning,  I woke up while it was still dark and remembered I was in charge of this event before dinner and started thinking about what I should say.  I came across some scripture in Corinthians that seemed to grasp me that morning. I decided I would read these verses to my family and friends before praying with them. Things didn’t go as smoothly as I planned.  The moment I began to read the words to them, I was overwhelmed with emotion and longing I haven’t felt in a while that turned to tears.  I forced myself through each word, yet I am not really sure if I did any good or helped impact anyone, because my pain got the best of me in that moment.  And yes this was all sober:)

Lying here now I’ve been thinking about why I chose this particular scripture, why I felt it was important to hear as family and friends gathered for a meal.  The book of Corinthians consisted of letters written by the apostle Paul to the church of Corinth.  Basically, it was a hot mess there.  The people had turned against each other, they weren’t functioning as a community anymore and it was pretty much every man for himself.  Complete chaos.   In a much more beautiful way than I’m describing it,  Paul’s letters to the church explain how powerful God’s love is and how important it is that they love one another and love God.  How incredible joy comes from this kind of love.  He encourages them to let go of all the hate, self-destruction, greed, jealousy, lust, dishonesty, and come back to these two basic desires from God.  Love him and love each other.

I thought about all the people yesterday that didn’t get a meal, that didn’t have family to spend this holiday with.  I thought about how I had more than plenty.  I thought about why that is.  While I have no answer for each person’s chapter, I do believe we are all working towards going home one day.  I believe there is a pull in each of us that makes us question what is beyond this world because it never quite feels like enough.  At least for me, it has always felt like there is something more, something bigger.  I thought about John’s purpose as I read these words and what purpose he serves now at a bigger scale.  What purpose all those that have gone before us now serve.

I said before that my every day problems are nothing compared to the reality of what is going on around this world.  I had a good Thanksgiving.  I even get to go see most of John’s family today and spend time with them.  I have so much support and love coming from so many.

I think I chose these words for this blessing because I wanted to acknowledge that we so easily find ourselves in situations like the people of Corinth.  We judge, we become jealous, angry, defeated, dishonest, we sometimes say things that are hurtful.  We don’t always consider everyone’s situation, why they are the way they are, where they’ve come from.  We let family dynamics get the best of us and turn away from our families when some people have no family at all.  We let things fester, we hold grudges, we become stubborn.  My prayer for my family, really for everyone is that we acknowledge that yes these feeling do surface, but through acknowledgement they don’t have to own us or over take us.  Our worst day may be someone’s best day.

 My prayer is that no matter what chapter each person find’s themselves in and no matter how awful it is, that they can hold tight to Paul’s words, “this is temporary compared to what is to come and worth it.”  When I really put that into perspective, how short this life can be, I realize that all those feelings that fester truly are not from God, they are from me, and they simply don’t matter.

I believe we all have a bigger purpose we are working towards.  We’re all heading home one day.   We have the free will to chose how we get there and what path we take.  My hope is that as we move into a new year, yet another chapter, that we look at how we can let our light shine through the darkness of this world, regardless of our pain.  How chosing even a small act of kindness makes such a difference. My hope is that we each can tap into the treasure he gives us in jars of clay, that we ask what our purpose is, that we again continue to chose love over our pain and let that flow to others that need it.

My Thanksgiving focused on what is unseen, what is eternal.   I am beyond grateful for my hope in that, for my hope in going home.  For that chapter far outweighs any pain I find myself in now.  My prayer is that others can feel that too no matter what.