I've just done something very hard for me, I've said no to an invitation. Maybe I'm starting, albeit very slowly, to understand the whole boundaries thing. That loving yourself and others well involves healthy boundaries. Proof will tell, the next time I'm asked to get my diary out, which probably won't be long.
For those who regularly follow my blog posts will remember the fallen squirrel from the other day. Well very sadly, it was evident that he had died when I revisited the cemetery this morning for another hospital funeral. There were no family, friends or carers at this service, which always feels very sad. Though, it makes me feel like I can be the advocate and representative of a precious life by my presence and in the words that I say.
I was led to think about this Quaker phrase throughout the day.
I will hold you in the Light.
And I guess this is true for much of my work.
Ruthanne Hackman reflects,
The Quaker belief is, that of God, is in all people. Likewise, when someone shines their face upon you, in a simple smile, you are being held in the Light.
Ruthanne Hackman
And so even before the hospital funeral, before my day had even started in earnest, I had had two distinct encounters this morning.
One with a Dad who was in the hospital with his daughter and one with a husband who was advocating for his wife, all at the same time as walking through his own cancer journey. Both conversations were very different but, as lots of other people often express, they were grateful for the opportunity to share. Something happens in these moments of engagement. Often unexplainable from both sides. But it's there. It is happening. You are held in the light. We are held in the light.
I've had, once again, numerous encounters across the breadth of the day and each of them have been significant in their own way. Sometimes I feel like I'm saying the same things when I reflect, but it is always amazing to think back and trace in my mind the places I've been to and the people I've met. It has been another rich day of just showing up and being present.
I met a gentleman today for the second time this week. I didn't expect him to still be where he was but when he saw me he said, “there's something I forgot to tell you”. He had told me the tragic story of his grandson who had taken his own life and how he often thinks of him. Today he added, that he was an organ donor and how that was a light in the darkness.
I was able to watch the third part of the Renovaré series earlier, which was called, What is My Picture of Myself? It was all about this duality that makes us who we are. Light and dark. Light and shadow. On the follow up podcast one of the guests, Juanita Rasmus, described a point in her life where she hit, what she described as, rock bottom.
Her book is called, Learning to Be.
Here are some quotes from it,
On the podcast, I was really struck today by her description of hitting rock bottom. She beautifully intimated that she was expecting this place to be the darkest, loneliest, farthest place away from God that she had ever experience and yet when she got there she found God waiting for her there. Light and hope and wonder and love.
Writing about the book, Tina Knowles Lawson notes,
I'm reminded to think about Psalm 139,
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
Psalms 139:8-12 NIV
And Psalm 23,
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Psalms 23:4 NIV
I sent this song to my colleague earlier,
Some of the lyrics are,
The Lord is my shepherd, there's nothing I need
You lead me to the safest places
I will continue to hold people in the Light. For there we find a good shepherd.