Standing On Holy Ground

Everywhere we go, there is God. He doesn't wait until the house is cleaned, the bills paid, the laundry done, all things "right" according to our way of thinking. This morning I woke up with Him in my heart AND on my mind. I think He was saying that I have to get moving, keep finding my way, move from some of what has kept me "down" so much lately. And there has certainly been enough to do that, so much so, that the prevailing sadness just doesn't leave, it permeates, even though I go on about the way of life. I know He was reminding me that all the sad stories that surround me do not have to be reminders of past experiences, images, and pain. Psychologically, I know better than to carry another's burden, at least fully, but emotionally, well, another story unfolds. I read the blog of another grieving mother, CJ's mom, who writes how it is to prepare for her son's memorial visitation and it all comes rushing back, I feel it with every fiber of my being and I don't want to...it all comes rushing back when my own brother-in-law suffers side effects due to chemotherapy, has to enter a hospital, loses another part of himself each day, and I feel it, but I don't want to....and every single time I see a woman with a shaved head, it all comes rushing back, the strength of two sisters, one doing the shaving out of love, one, the cancer patient, showing bravery and fortitude to handle it before it handled her. But the images are still painful, because I remember the tears, the dignity, the loss for her, the first of many, and I weep. I weep, but for what. For memories. For part of life that had to happen and is now gone, showing that those steps were just God's way of preparing us for so much more. I know God, the Father, weeps with me.

Every step I have taken in my life I have stood on holy ground. I may not have known it then, but from the minute I knew who Jesus was, or should I say, accepted Him into my life, developed a relationship, and knew what He did for me, I have known what His love and life can do for me. I can do everything in His name, and find the peace that comes from living for Him, not myself. I can ask God, in the name of His son, to help me through each trial and tribulation. Looking back, some of the so called trials in my life seemed so monumental, but now...well, I suppose it is all relative. Nothing has ever, or will again, compare. Surely there will be more loss, more pain, more suffering, and grief, but I will know what God has intended me to know and the giant will have been faced.

In the hubbub (is that a word?!) of schools ending and decisions being made, and many of my friends and colleagues caught up in the change, I am listening to their woes. And I listen because it is important to them. And it was to me, too, for years. We try to figure out the powers that be and their decisions or we wonder what can be good in the configurations of people and their assignments. We can easily get wrapped up in the drama that surrounds such decisions and "feel" for the people who are impacted. We can also feel as though our world is coming to an end, and it is, as we know it. But being older and wiser we come to realize that all this is part of the bigger plan, the one God has already designed for us, and it is all so much more bearable when we walk on holy ground. I recall a move to a new school, at one point in my career, and I wondered how in the world I would manage it all, and it was then that I put my trust in God to know that something was intended by it, and it was. God and I did a lot of talking in those days! It's easy to see it all so clearly NOW.

I put that same trust in God, now, only a much bigger scale. Funny how the other "changes" and losses don't compare, yet were a stepping stone to standing on holy ground. Holy ground that makes all this more tolerable, bearable, clear and even doable. Holy ground is trusting and believing, knowing that God never forsakes me, and even took our Allison in His perfect timing, not ours. He sent the beams of colored light into a hospital room, lifted her soul, and allowed her to be the teacher she was destined to become. Those are the images I pray to remember, not the pain, the shaved head, the doctor visits, the medical reports, the cancer. While not always easy, it is my quest to remain on holy ground.