Joy?

Twelve years ago yesterday, I was ordained a priest in the Episcopal Church. It didn’t really hit me what day it was. I’ve been moving through my days doing what needs doing, trying to take care of me and the dogs and the house, but most of the time I feel only partially present. I know this is typical in grief and I keep reminding myself of that but it doesn’t always help. I am a very organized woman who believes deeply in a well-ordered life. God created the universe by bringing order to the chaos, breathing over the dark waters to make the land and the sea, making days and seasons and years to help us order our days by God’s plan. I think ahead to what’s next and do what needs doing in a timely manner so that when the unexpected happens – not the major stuff but the phone calls and invitations to visit over coffee or lunch, someone who needs my help with something, things not going as anticipated, a dropped cup of coffee that now requires me to mop the hallway, you know, just the regular every day things that pop into our days – I can respond and be present because I know that I’ve managed the regular occurring tasks and deadlines. I used to do all this well. And now I have to put post-it notes on the front door so I don’t forget what I need to bring with me for the day. I look at my calendar every few minutes because I can’t remember what I’m doing next.

And then this afternoon, when I had a chance to sit and relax for a bit amidst the things I needed to get done today, the pictures from my ordination popped up in my FB memories. What a joyous day it was! So many precious people, family, friends, fellow clergy, all gathering to worship and pray and come together around God’s table because God and the Church wanted to make me a priest. Me! What a privilege it is. Even on the most difficult days of doing life with the people of my parish, I still say at the end of the day, “I have the most amazing vocation on the planet.” I get to do life with folks who are also doing their best to follow Jesus. We hold each other up, help each other, laughter and cry together, grieve and celebrate together, and serve God together as we work toward the Kingdom on earth as in heaven. It’s a beautiful life.

Looking through the pictures, I laughed and I cried. There are pictures my dad and me. I miss him so, so much. He was so proud of me being a priest and he told me so often. He’s been gone almost 5 months. I miss his laugh and his smile and his hugs. There are also pictures of Jim and me.

It was just a few days before my ordination that Jim asked me to marry him the first time. We had only been going out a couple of months but he knew. I knew, too, I think, but I told him not to ask me yet. I was about to be ordained a priest (I was already a deacon and had been for 6 months) and I told him that I needed to focus on finding my footing as a priest first. He didn’t run away. Six months to the day after his first asking, he asked again.

Jim, too, was so proud that I was a priest. He’d spent his career, his vocation, in a field dominated by women and I was in a vocation dominated by men. We talked about that a lot. The whole of my priesthood he’s been by my side, encouraging me, listening when I needed to talk, calling me out when my ego was showing, understanding when pastoral visits and church events had to take priority, and never complaining that holidays weren’t times we could go see any of the kids. He even told his golf friends that he couldn’t take their annual trip to Vegas over Easter weekend anymore! That’s true love, y’all!

It’s not even been 2 months since Jim died. I miss him so much. I know ‘grief brain’ won’t last forever, that slowly I’ll feel like I’ve got a handle on life again, even as I know it will be a different life. And I know I don’t forge this new path alone. God is with me and God created all of us to be our best in companionable and collaborative relationships with each other. I am so very grateful for the extra-large family Jim gave me. I am so very grateful for the beautiful people of my amazing parish.

God is good and I’m ok. In the midst of it all, I am joyful and hopeful because I know that God is good. Today is the third Sunday in Advent, a day we focus on Joy. Joy is both a gift from God and something we need to practice. It isn’t a fake “things are great” when they really, really aren’t. Joy isn’t the opposite of grief, it sustains us in our grief. Joy is not about our circumstances but comes from our faith in God’s goodness and love. Joy comes from being aware of God’s presence with us always. I pray that you feel the joy within you, today and every day.