This weekend we were in Indianapolis with Jeff’s family. The purpose was to attend Jeff’s Dad’s induction into the Indiana High School Golf Hall of Fame (which was wonderful!). But the side benefit was having all the family in one place to hang out, golf, talk, catch up… and say “good-bye”. Cap off tearful good-byes with a five our carride (with 3 potty breaks for Carter) and a phone conversation with my parents for Father’s Day and I was a wreck by the time bedtime hit.
I slept well, but woke up still tired and dreading going to Covenant Group. I just didn’t want to draw closer to good friends or talk about leaving. But after Jeff and the kids left, I felt a nudge to go walk the labyrinth again. So I took off my shoes and walked through the dewey grass, asking God, “What do I need to release?” And the answer was clear and consistent – other people’s sadness. I cannot hold too tightly to other people’s grief and sadness over our leaving. If I continue grasping it so tightly, and even feeling responsible for it, then I will not be able to fully embrace and live this journey before us.
I’m reminded of the image from our All Church Retreat last year; the speakers encouraged us to imagine holding our hopes and fears in an open palm. I do not deny my own sadness and anticipation. And I do not begrudge anyone else his or hers. The best I can do is hold these emotions and expectations in my open hands – acknowledging their weight but also offering them to God, allowing God to take them and hold them.
As I sat in the center of the labyrinth I felt lighter already. The burdens that I was carrying were not mine. And releasing them was a gift and a more faithful response.
Then I stood to walk out of the labyrinth asking God, “What does this mean for me going forward?” And as I moved back through the labryinth I kept hearing the words, “look forward with joy… look forward with joy…” And I imagined the party that will welcome us in Blantyre – a hug from Moty, Daniel’s laughter, Rose’s sweet smile, the light in Claude’s eyes, the sincere welcome from our Abusa, Collings, and the singing! And, oh, how they will love our children!
The leaving is difficult and it is sad, but I know that not one of our friends or family members would want me to dwell on his or her sadness. Or to be consumed by our separation at the expense of the joy and the mission and the adventure that awaits us. So today, I walk forward with joy!
