On Easter Sunday, Husband and I invited ourselves to a service at our good friend's church.
Our friend, is also my
sister-in-law's sister
or
my brother's wife's sister
or
Miss E's & Mr. P's other aunt.
I know, I know, hard to follow. I need to draw a tree. That's why we call her our friend and really, that is who she is, a dear friend. E is a priest at an Anglican Church in Arlington, VA called
Restoration.
Husband and I walked into E's tiny church about 30 minutes early and the seats were filling quickly. We were offered two seats next to a sweet couple and the four of us squeezed into one tiny pew. It was cozy from the beginning. The music started to play, and the beat was loud and strong. I knew the words and just started singing. I watched the very young congregation file in, looking smart in their Sunday attire and holding their young children close. The place filled and everyone "scootched" a few times to make space for more. All the small children ended up on laps, I'm not even sure if they were their parent's laps but no one seemed to mind. Lots of hugs and hand shakes were happening - it was a bit like a party. . . at church!
Husband and I are both Catholic so we knew that this Easter service would be a bit different than what we are used to. I don't think we knew how different nor how good that different would feel.
During the fabulous sermon, the Rector had many different reflection points to mull over and digest. But towards the end of his sermon he reflected on his church as a place where broken people could come and find peace. He didn't say to be healed. He just said to find peace.
That struck me Sunday and even more so yesterday.
It seems like life is full of broken people and situations. Lots of struggles are happening, both physically and mentally. Lots of things outside of our control are going array. We're doing our best, chugging along and every day is full of unexpected "life things" that easily break you and your loved ones. Some are little and just cause a slight tear. Others are big and life altering. Those create gaping holes in your heart right away.
Last night I was reading a book that my alma mater, LMU distributed last year called
Contemplativus. Barbara Busse, Assistant to the President and former professor of mine talked about what she has learned working in a Jesuit school. She reflects with this:
Examen: Quieting the noise, I listen to my life.
The inventory begins . . . the joys and griefs, the hopes and fears and (yes!) the Love floods in.
The complex mosaic of what this one life really is emerges.
God, give me the wisdom to make sense of the "what next" in my life.
I wait, sometimes less patiently and less gratefully than would be ideal.
Then, if I let go of fears and failings, the Spirit moves.
I can see God smiling at this perfect mess of life.
This gives me courage and grace to move forward. And I smile.
That is enough for me.
Life is messy. Sometimes it's messier than other times. Sometimes you break. Sometimes others break around you. Sometimes you wait impatiently. Sometimes you are ungrateful.
Church on Sunday and the above reflection reminded me that peace and courage and grace are an option when you're broken. You may have to sit in a very tight pew to help you find it. But it's there. And that perfect mess of life is God's plan. He's smiling and so should you.
