Living with Loss

O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of races and cultures in this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.   Carolyn A. Rose I've had the distinct privilege in life to have traveled to various places, some vastly different from my home, and some quite similar.  Regardless of the magnitude of differences, I can always feel the uniqueness of the place. After a while, certainly I long for the familiar comfort of home... but I always return with a fuller heart and a more open mind. Then it's like a siren song calling me back to seek more, ask more, learn more and inwardly digest it to build me into a more understanding and compassionate being.  In a class I am taking, we were posed this question: How have your own cu

As I was driving home last week my mind told me I finally had energy to put into living. I had this moment of complete joy. Then, almost instantly, guilt pushed into my mind. Grief is a wicked beast.  I drove down the road contemplating the battling emotions. I decided love must win; but, love only wins when we work at it.   Love must be coached out of and in to us.  We must be thoughtful about love.   Love is a powerful thing ... and yet it's fragile, not to be toyed with or taken lightly.   Love is a treasure that becomes more valued with time; each little nick and tear, each loss and each new beginning makes us need and want love even more. We are desperate for love.  Love is the antidote to sorrows, but it can be a fickle thing, and we are leery of its power, uncomfortable with the prerequisites for accepting it's healing.  Love is healing, but we fear it, shy from it and close our minds to its power. Being open to love means we will be exposed to grief and sorrow. B

I learned years ago to actively practice bringing my thoughts to the present moment, particularly when my mind goes to some wicked place and even sometimes when it goes to a beautiful memory.  There is no predictability in grieving. This practice of being in the present moment has been life-saving for me, literally. But sometimes my heart yearns for the lost moments. Do you ever have one of those days when you need the past?    A little sliver of light is shining on the memory of reading stories to my son. I can see us there, settled in among the pillows and stuffed animals, my head laying next to his on the pillow, book in hand. Then, I would read with active voice the stories so they jump from the page and become real.  What a wonderful beautiful memory, vivid with sound and color. I hear his laughs and questions and our discussions on the meaning of the stories.  Oh, how I want to bring it all back to being real, being here and now.  An evening ritual for years, w e had l