Seek the Sacred Amidst the Ordinary

It’s raining this morning, or perhaps the rain from last night is dripping off the large oak trees. I linger when walking the dog on days like this. The world seems so silent and at peace. So I was drawn to this photo of my parents at my sister Lana’s wedding over twenty years ago. Mom and Dad are making their grand entrance at the reception, happily greeting everyone. You can see my sisters Rita and Pam in the background along with members of the groom’s family. This morning Lisa and Roxanne, sisters and my friends since elementary school, are burying their father. Last month, they buried their mother. My heart aches for them as I write this, knowing they are preparing to leave home for the funeral. I remember looking at my feet the morning of Mom’s funeral, wondering why I only had on one shoe, wondering how long I had been sitting there, without the energy to put on the other shoe. Over fifteen years later, getting ready for Dad’s funeral, I expected to feel that heaviness. Yet expecting something doesn’t make it any easier. When I read about the Pit in the Psalms, grief is what comes to mind. You feel stuck, oppressed, lost without hope of ever getting out. Someone you love is gone from this life forever. I’m not sure I understand what happens after death, and for me, I’m not sure it really matters. All I know for sure is that while we all die, love lives forever. Love is more powerful than our frail bodies, our weak wills, our feeble attempts that fall short in this life. So this morning I bid your prayers for these precious sisters, offering the words of a favorite hymn, Ubi Caritas. Where love and caring are, there is God, Ubi caritas, et amor, Deus ibi est. May this peaceful morning and the peace of God that passes all understanding, be with you, now and always. Amen. Photo credit The Torre Studios in Burlington, NJ