A journal is a private place where graced moments are preserved and relived with each reading. It is place for remembering important happenings that might otherwise slip into the dimness of the past. It is a place for seeing God. In her journal, my daughter Brynnan tells of a moment of grace when God captured her attention. She describes it as a “slap in the face” moment of clarity. Brynnan gave me a priceless gift the day she allowed me to read her journal. She gave me a glimpse of her faith, a glimpse into her soul, and even more precious, she gave me a glimpse of God. As I read her words, a peace that passed understanding settled into my heart. God is holding my child firmly by the hand. What else could a mother want to know?
Brynnan's journal entry September 3, the day after her sister died: (Shared with her permission.)
I heard a little question from God yesterday, and all it said was, “Hey! How’s it going?”
My first response? “You’ve got to be kidding me! My one and only sister died today, and all you have to say is ‘Hey! How’s it going?” Thanks a lot God, I really appreciate that, but where were you? Why did you let her die? Where were you when she needed you the most, and why aren’t you here when I need you the most? Where are your words of wisdom when I need them?” God didn’t answer. Just as I had suspected, he had left me high and dry, alone in the sorrow and pain that was closing in around me. Little did I know that I was about to get the biggest two-by-four across the face I’ve ever gotten from God to this point in my life.
When I woke up this morning all I wanted to do was roll over and never get up. I just wanted to lie there, be miserable, and wish my sister back to life, but I knew this wasn’t an option. There were things to be done, people to see, plans to be made. Tara’s funeral had to be planned, phone calls had to be answered, guests bringing food and flowers had to be welcomed; unlike any of us wanted, life had to keep moving.
As I climbed out of bed, I heard my mother in her bedroom and it sounded like she was crying. I really didn’t think I could face the tears just yet, so I thought I’d try to sneak past without being noticed. No such luck. Mom turned the corner and saw me just as I peeked around to make sure the coast was clear. She told me to come sit down.
“Brynnan, a few years ago, Tara called me and said: 'Mama, I think God spoke to me today. I was busy running errands and I was late to a meeting, but I saw this jewelry store, and even though I didn't have time to go in, I just felt called to go into that store. When I went inside, I saw a pendant, and it was like God was talking to me. I didn't have the money to spend on it, but I couldn't leave without it. It was a cross with a mother on one side and a child on the other. Mom, it was like God was telling me that Spencer and I are going to be OK--that his hand is at work in all the pain we've been going through [during her divorce from Spencer's father], and that we are His children and He is going to take care of us'."
My mother continued:
“Tara will be wearing her cross at the funeral home. After that, I’ll be wearing it to remind us all of what it stands for. And Brynnan, I want you to know that among all the sadness and pain and tears, God is here. Jesus is here and we are His children and he is taking care of us. Above all we must remember this."
Bam, there was that slap in the face I was talking about earlier. And at that point I had to smile. Leave it to my sister to remind me when I am being unreasonable and demanding too much from God. Just as quickly as my faith had dwindled, it returned in full force. Unlike before, when I could not see God anywhere, I suddenly became fully aware of His presence everywhere I went today, and I could see the Holy Spirit tending to me as a child, comforting me in my time of need.
It’s a really good thing this slap in the face came when it did, because earlier this evening we had to go see Tara at the funeral home. As I walked in I stretched out my hand as if reaching out for someone’s hand to hold. The strangest thing happened. It felt as if someone were actually holding my hand, and somehow I just knew it was God.
I stood next to Tara, and all I could ask was “Why? God, why did this happen? Why am I going to have to live the rest of my life without my sister? And why are her children going to have to grow up without a mother?” God didn’t answer.
Before I left, I looked at my sister and prayed the words of the Irish Blessing:
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
May the rain fall soft upon your field.
And until we meet again, may God hold you
In the hollow of His hand.
I guess my reasoning behind this prayer was that I wasn’t saying goodbye, just until we meet again.
At the visitation tonight two of my friends from camp came. Somehow the subject of Eucharist came up, and I decided I would really like to go (Canterbury Chapel holds a 10:00PM Eucharist for the students at the University of Alabama). After the service I was sitting in the sanctuary while someone played the guitar. The first song he played was the Irish Blessing.
A coincidence? I think not…it was most definitely one of those “God-incidences” my mother is always talking about. Tara was speaking to me, telling me that she was alright, letting me know she had heard my prayer, returning the blessing to me.
After the song I was sitting there and again I heard the Holy Spirit say, “Hey! How’s it going?” This time I answered, “You know? I’ve been better. What is there for me to do? How can I make this pain go away?”
God replied, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
Reflections:
"I sought the Lord, and he answered me. . ."~Psalm 34:4
"People see God every day, they just don't recognize him."~Pearl Bailey
"Peace is not he absence of affliction, but the presence of God."~Author Unknown
Peace I give to thee
Peace I give to thee
Not as the world gives
Give I to thee
Peace I give to thee
Peace I give to thee
Not as the world gives
Give I to thee
Peace I give to thee
-Have I experienced peace in difficult times? If so, what gave me peace?
-The psalms reflect the human condition. Is there a psalm that is especially meaningful to me at this time in my life?
Practice - Keep a Spiritual Journal: We sometimes pray with fervor and then forget what we prayed for. Write your prayers in a journal. Don't worry about sentence composition, spelling, or finding the "right" words. Be honest. Write what is on your heart. You may wish to begin with: Dear God . . .At some time in the future (you will know when), read your prayer journal. What do you notice? Were your prayers answered? If so, how? Were there any surprises?
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