So, “it has been a hell of a year,” I’ve said more than a few times, but as I contemplate this year, I realize that’s not a very fair description. In fact, it would be more appropriate to call it a “heaven of a year.” I’ve been the closest to heaven as is possible multiple times. It is in creating life and thereby participating (literally) in the work of the Creator, and it is in witnessing and accompanying souls to heaven that heaven, suddenly, becomes very close. My mom had a quote in her kitchen that said, “Heaven may be beyond our reach, but not beyond our grasp.” Being with my mom at her death was the first time I was present as someone died, and I have an unexplainable sense that heaven really is all around us, not some far away, foreign place as we sometimes feel. We are given glimpses of heaven all the time. It might be cliché, but I realize what really matters in life. So often, I am distracted by the fleeting happiness the world offers. I set my sights so low, and wonder why I am restless. There is joy, beauty and goodness in this world and, sometimes, it is where we least expect it- in pain and suffering.
Now, it is very tempting to attempt to give some theological answers for the “problem of suffering.” Our Master’s in Theology degrees (yes, both Jed and I got our Master’s in Theology) are crying out for some theses that are waiting to be written. However, we know better than that. I know I would only trivialize pain by being so proud as to pretend I understand all the reasons pain must exist. Instead, I wish to share my experience and hope my sharing it, will be a light for you the next time you are suffering, for that is the one thing we all will experience.
This year my heart has been shattered. I entered a world of loss that seemed unendurable. I’ve always felt the pain of ‘goodbye’ pretty acutely. During each chapter of life, the changes and goodbyes were the most overwhelming. Reunions always seemed to bring a sense of fullness, a reminder that pieces of my life had been given to many others and they were still carrying those pieces. When I had to leave my friends in Honduras, yet looking forward to seeing my loved ones in the U.S., the priest told me that in heaven we will finally be reunited with everyone we love; the pain of separation will no longer exist.
I can’t explain my experiences this year very well in words, but I think I have experienced heaven, in the midst of my loss. Knowing my mom (who LOVED her short time being grandma) is “rocking” our tiny baby fills me with peace. Knowing Mom, Aunt Marian and baby are no longer experiencing our earthly pains of separation and loss fills me with joy. Merely imagining these things would not bring this kind of peace. I know it is a gift from God that He has given me and my family this confident joy. His grace, strength, and yes, joy, are overflowing when we need it- and when do we need it? When we are suffering.
I know many of you have also had tough years. We pray you are given the strength and joy you need. I trust that our baby, Marian, and my mom are continuing to pray for all of us (do you really think my mom could stop fretting over all of us). Trust in the God who became a vulnerable little baby and entered into all our humanity. Know that if you’re receiving this card, we love you and miss you and hope to see you as often as possible. We thank you for all the love many of you have shown us this year and always.