There is a cliche growing in popularity in modern times – "it's not about me". Books have been written and bumper stickers printed with this theme echoing loudly and clearly.
While blogging has become widely therapeutic for me, I recognize it is a bit of a selfish endeavor. I like to believe it has made me a better person in the real world, but the data is still being interpretted.
Today I was sitting in church, composing a new entry in my head – a sign that I am becoming a blogaholic. The blog was spiritual in nature and I have my notes a future entry but I became deeply engaged in the sermon at hand – the culminating message on a four part series on Ruth. I realize making blog notes on the bulletin is probably ruder than I want to admit, but I abandoned this writing when our pastor started interviewing our associate pastor and his wife on loss and God's presence with us at all times. The couple being interviewed both lost their spouses to cancer after marriages that lasted almost longer than all by today's standards. They spoke candidly about how lost and alone they had felt after being widowed and how, at times, it was hard to completely feel God's presence although they knew He was there – and they spoke of pain that still exists in the midst of the blessing of having found one another. At this point I knew my scribbled rough draft would better suit another day and time. I was jolted back to the reality that while I love to look inside and process my identity and all my underlying nooks and crannies it indeed is not all about me, God is not here to be my Santa Claus, and if I spend too much time analyzing what lies within I will miss the pain and hurting in the world around me and in turn miss the opportunity to be Christ's love to somebody. Perhaps I feel inadequate to minister to people who minister to me on a daily basis, but their stories during the sermon prepared me for the phone call I was about to receive.
It is really hard to write or process this without tears.
I have been in the teaching profession for 12 years. I have had many many children from the age of 3 to 19 come in and out of my life and because of my exact field, I spend a lot of one on one or one on two time with these children.
This afternoon one of my colleagues called me and told me that one of our students had passed away this morning. He was three years old and the thought of him being taken so soon was beyond reason to me. He had some medical issues but was of fairly strong health. I had grown to love him over the past few months.
When my friend called back, she gave me more of the details. She told me that his mom found him unresponsive this morning. EMTs and emergency physicians worked on him but it was no use.
His mom who has strongly and lovingly raised two beautiful sons who had physical challenges said "He can't be gone. He's only three." Her precious baby is gone – she is now faced with the task of helping his brother understand why he is not next to him in his crib tonight as she deals with grief that I can only begin to fathom. I cry for myself – but tonight I cry for all the pain in the world and for this mom in particular. In the days that lie ahead, she may feel she is very alone – like God has left her and taken with her the precious gift she had in her son. I hope people around her can show God's abiding love to her and I pray she feels God's presence in a major way tonight on the first day of this long lasting nightmare. Please pray for her, too.
Blogging continues to be a healing outlet for me – but today I needed reminding that others have a broken road, too and maybe I need to take their arm and help them find their way down theirs.
And as for RD, sleep well tonight little angel – you will be missed.