The Sledgehammer of Grief

 I was floored today, literally on my knees in tears, grief stricken.  Those of you who know me well know that I don’t crack much.  I don’t cry at movies - well very occasionally but don’t tell Emma - she thinks I’m a hard-hearted.... :) ! And yes sometimes my emotions do get the better of me.  It’s not that I am against emotions but over the years, from an early age, I have always internalised my emotions.  I drove my mother up the wall because she could never read me as a child.  And like many who internalise emotions when the dam bursts it is usually breaks with style.  Temper tantrums are fireworks and like fireworks disappear just as quickly.  Grief is pushed into its compartment - and in my role much of my grief is not mine to own.  And with some exceptions I have managed to contain it. 

But sometimes the dam bursts, the tears fall and the grief wells up.  Today, I took the service of Margaret. A wonderful lady who I loved more than I knew.  She was a regular, a smiler, a kind person you’d be proud to call Gran. I just never realised what I had til today.  Ministry is such a blessing and I believe it is about relationships.  We are brothers and sisters in Christ - Hebrews 2 reminds us what Jesus did and how he calls us brothers and sisters.  We are family and we all know (with the exceptions) that families are hard work.  There are the easy to love, the hard to love, the rascals and the gems, but they are family.  And often I cast my eye around the congregation and miss people - those who have died and those who have left.  Like all families we miss our loved ones.  

Today, the reality of the last 6 months hit me like a sledgehammer.  Margaret’s sudden death just made the point that we can’t go back, we can only go forward.  Seeing her smiling face on her order of service broke any last hope of returning to that hall with coffee and cake and the vibrant thrum of conversation.  And you know it is that picture of the hall with everyone in it that sits with me -more than the worship in the Sanctuary and you all know how important that is to me.  That hall with ceilidh dances or Santa on his big chair, the coffee mornings or the Leisure Group and Guild talks and tables.  

I share this not because I want to make you sad but to say I get it.  Yes I know I keep looking forward, and we have to move forward.  But we are still grieving, and today Margaret helped me own my grief.  Sometimes we need to say it out loud - this season in exile is so very hard, and wherever we end up it will be different to what we left behind.  Full of opportunities and possibilities, but we must acknowledge the loss as well.  Otherwise a dam will burst in the future and we might never truly recover. 

Sometimes you don’t know what you have until it is taken away.  So know that I miss you.  I miss the clamour of questions, the overwhelming information at the door, the hugs, and more. I will never miss the coffee and cake after the service again! And as a wise man once said to me - if you have to choose what to do with your time, choose to spend it with people! 

Church life will not the same ever again and that is going to take some getting used to.  And our Elders and Ministers will do their utmost to restore and shape something that will bless members and community alike.  Like you they carry grief too so be gentle with them.  God remains faithful, and with him we have a safe refuge.  So whether you are the prodigal child who has run away and now come looking for him - he loves you and you are welcome. Or whether you are the elder brother who stayed faithful to God all the time, feeling out of sorts, remember God loves you too.  

‘He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.’ Isaiah 40:29

Rest in peace Margaret.  And thank you for being you.  

Love Sarah