February 18
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18
When we experience the loss of a loved one, in our grief and brokenness it is nearly impossible to feel anything but the all-consuming sadness that overcomes us. We go through the motions of doing what we must do, often in a trance-like state, taking care of what needs to be done at the moment. A priest I knew once used the analogy that grief was like a ship that was docked, massively looming before us and overshadowing all the light behind it.
It seems we spend a life time experiencing some form of loss – that is, we are being prepared day by day before we leave this world, to comprehend that we must eventually give everything up in order to fill our spirit with God. In countless ways we experience these losses - this grief. In countless ways our spirits can be crushed; disappointment in others, end of a relationship, health changes, loss of ability and financial difficulties, to name a few. During these times, the grief we feel can affect us greatly, blinding our ability to see any possible good coming from any of it; we are unable to see direction with this foggy, dark cloud obscuring our vision. It is only later, in retrospect that we are able to begin to possibly see the many ways God has infused His love and compassionate care into our lives; see the wondrous good that has come of something so painful. There comes a point we begin to see the positive changes set in motion by the patience, tolerance and loving care offered to us, in the many unexpected kindnesses of those who touched our lives during this period of time.
Paying attention also to the nudges within that encourage our participation in the everyday practices of our Faith, we begin to feel a glimmer of renewed strength and deeper sense of compassion too. People and circumstances renewed our awareness of self and purpose, and we see that God was drawing us closer all the while through them. Then one day, suddenly something stirs within and we recognize that we too have the ability to emulate for others what they have done for us. We become aware that life has changed and taken on new meaning. With profound appreciation, we feel God’s closeness in the lives that surround ours! Through God’s enduring love, our spirits are uplifted once again. As Rev. Joseph E. Manton, C.Ss.R continued in his analogy, the ship slowly goes out to sea and day by day you watch it go. Eventually it is just a dot on the horizon. It is always there, but no longer overwhelming.
We never forget those we love who go before us, and the painful everyday losses we all encounter take their toll, but like the ship out to sea, we are no longer blinded by the intensity of grief or the battering of our spirits. We are able to see all that lies between these life experiences and us, and most importantly, the comforting light God is shining upon us all.
When our spirits are broken, dear Lord, thank you for being with us. Thank you for the people in our lives who have been your instruments of love and kindness.
Copyright© 2014 Kathleen A. Matson
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18
When we experience the loss of a loved one, in our grief and brokenness it is nearly impossible to feel anything but the all-consuming sadness that overcomes us. We go through the motions of doing what we must do, often in a trance-like state, taking care of what needs to be done at the moment. A priest I knew once used the analogy that grief was like a ship that was docked, massively looming before us and overshadowing all the light behind it.
It seems we spend a life time experiencing some form of loss – that is, we are being prepared day by day before we leave this world, to comprehend that we must eventually give everything up in order to fill our spirit with God. In countless ways we experience these losses - this grief. In countless ways our spirits can be crushed; disappointment in others, end of a relationship, health changes, loss of ability and financial difficulties, to name a few. During these times, the grief we feel can affect us greatly, blinding our ability to see any possible good coming from any of it; we are unable to see direction with this foggy, dark cloud obscuring our vision. It is only later, in retrospect that we are able to begin to possibly see the many ways God has infused His love and compassionate care into our lives; see the wondrous good that has come of something so painful. There comes a point we begin to see the positive changes set in motion by the patience, tolerance and loving care offered to us, in the many unexpected kindnesses of those who touched our lives during this period of time.
Paying attention also to the nudges within that encourage our participation in the everyday practices of our Faith, we begin to feel a glimmer of renewed strength and deeper sense of compassion too. People and circumstances renewed our awareness of self and purpose, and we see that God was drawing us closer all the while through them. Then one day, suddenly something stirs within and we recognize that we too have the ability to emulate for others what they have done for us. We become aware that life has changed and taken on new meaning. With profound appreciation, we feel God’s closeness in the lives that surround ours! Through God’s enduring love, our spirits are uplifted once again. As Rev. Joseph E. Manton, C.Ss.R continued in his analogy, the ship slowly goes out to sea and day by day you watch it go. Eventually it is just a dot on the horizon. It is always there, but no longer overwhelming.
We never forget those we love who go before us, and the painful everyday losses we all encounter take their toll, but like the ship out to sea, we are no longer blinded by the intensity of grief or the battering of our spirits. We are able to see all that lies between these life experiences and us, and most importantly, the comforting light God is shining upon us all.
When our spirits are broken, dear Lord, thank you for being with us. Thank you for the people in our lives who have been your instruments of love and kindness.
Copyright© 2014 Kathleen A. Matson