“For God alone my soul in silence waits; from him comes my salvation.”

Recently, the Rev. Dion Crider wrote about spinning plates and how much we have going on at times. I can relate to that, as can you. We are all busy, each in our own ways, work lives, family lives, church life, etc. As for me, I rarely take time to myself. I want to do better about that. It is only when the world comes to a screeching halt that I am forced out of my busyness (Criderism) and into a different and waiting state.

Yesterday, the world did just that: I lost someone dearer to me than words can express.

In a rush to hurry up and wait, I called the church staff, the clergy, and my family. We made plans and then I drove away from the spinning plates. There is something more important, after all: family. The drive last night was filled with prayer; it was also filled with listening. For three and a half hours, my soul-crushing sadness was met with God’s love. He allowed me to be silent, to wait, to listen, and to keep the odometer under 80 and my heart rate around the same. Last night, my soul in silence waited for God and God—as always—showed up.

The presence of God within me sustains me. It is what guides me and gives me the ability to type words like ‘hope’, ‘faith’, ‘love’. Even in the terrible moments, grace is found, such as it was last night and will be over the next few weeks. As my brothers and I, and Pop… as we mourn, we do so with God’s reassuring hands holding each of us in the ways our souls need. I am filled with grief, yet it is holy. Because I am also grateful for death that allows a trapped beloved soul to be free of bondage of the mind. She goes to a place where there is no memory loss, no bodily malfunction; she rests in a realm within which God has raised her up and made her new. Her memories flood back in a deluge of love. Her pain recedes, the tide of despair going with it, leaving only the clear and crystal waters of purification from God.

I hope for the resurrection. I believe in it. I hope for reuniting with loved ones. I hope to look upon the face of one of those who raised me and say to her, ‘Thank you. Thank you for loving me when you didn’t have to, when you had four others to manage.’ And for my family, I hope for grief to be matched by memories of love; as I am fond of saying, grief is the price we pay for love and this love? It was one of the deepest each of us has ever known.

Rest well. Rise healed. Wait for us while we finish our race. Then we will stand together being made new in the image of God and celebrate eternal life together. For right now?

My soul in silence waits…

I love you.

Sean