Morning Tears

It is 9 am and I have been up since 5:30 - which is pretty much my norm these days.  I have watched the news, read the paper, tried to tackle the "diabolical" sudoku, made my bed and gotten dressed.  And I sat in the dining room, with a candle lit and meditative music on and cried.

Here is some of what I wrote in my journal
"I am sad, so sad.  Wondering when the sadness will end.
Whenever I stop distracting myself and allow silence and peace to surround me, the sadness just starts to emerge - like water rising after a flood.
It is a beautiful day full of possibility and I sit here and miss my old life.  I miss Chuck, I miss preaching, I miss the work, the worry of ministry.  I miss Audrey.  I miss the mess and chaos.
And I wonder why I am spending money on a silent retreat?  Will it just be me engulfed in sadness......I sit here alone at this table not wanting my daughters  or a friend to be here. .  Who would I want here with me as I cry?  Only Chuck.  He would sit here and cry with me.  He would and I would let him in.

I don't know what the answer is -
To stay and feel deeply the loss of him again
to sit and acknowledge the emptiness of my life
to be in a state of a lack of imagination
I cannot see ahead, I cannot dream a future.  I cannot envision what is next
I only know what is here now - deep grief"

After this I texted Marnie and invited myself to go to camp with her and Addie to pick up Reagan.  I need to be with people.

And then I had an image that came to me - a wounded healer.  That is who I am.  Of course, that is who we all can be.  But part of these tears is starting the day tending the wound before I bandage myself up and go back into the world.

Somehow that made me feel better

Here is a prayer I read this morning in The Cure for Sorrow by Jan Richardson that was helpful

Stay

I know how your mind
rushes ahead,
trying to fathom
what could follow this,
What will you do,
where will you go,
how will you live?

You will want
to outrun the grief,
You will want
to keep turning toward
the horizon,
watching for what was lost
to come back,
to return to you
and never leave again.

For now,
hear me when I say
all you need to do
is to still yourself,
is to turn toward one another,
is to stay.

Wait
and see what comes
to fill
the gaping hole
in your chest.

Wait with your hands open
to receive what could never come
except to what is empty
and hollow.

You cannot know it now,
cannot even imagine
what lies ahead,
but I tell you
the day is coming
when breath will
fill your lungs
as it never has before,
and with your own ears
you will hear words
coming to you new
and startling.
You will dream dreams
and you will see the world
abaze with blessing.

Wait for it.
Still yourself.
Stay.