Hello TSJ Peeps!
It has only been about two weeks since “The Boys” (Solomon & SJ) and I said good-bye as Tom left to explore new Pastures with our Unseen Shepherd.
His transition to “the other side” has rocked our world. Now we too have entered a period of transition.
While Solomon quietly and kindly sits and listens, SJ and I are doing our best to pick up the broken pieces of our hearts, wipe away our tears, blow our noses, stop worrying about this or that and be quiet long enough to listen to the sweet voices of love and wisdom all around us.
And we are doing pretty well with Solomon’s steady voice of faith. He reminds us all the time that faith without action is merely a wish. It is vacuous. Faith muscles are one of our spiritual muscles that must be exercised and experienced to become strong.
SJ and I are still learning how to see things the way Solomon sees things. He seems to allow life to flow without grabbing and clutching onto whatever feels secure at the moment. He is definitely not detached from sorrow and suffering. He feels such things deeply. But he is not attached to or identified by it either.
SJ and I find great comfort in sitting next to him after we have our melt downs. Fortunately, SJ and I also do a lot of simple playing together. And Solomon totally approves. That brings me to today’s very basic but very real “story” or lesson.
The Hole in the Bread
Solomon, SJ, and I have all been spending time for rest and renewal this post-Christmas week. We came to New Jersey to be with my amazing sister and her equally amazing husband and young adult children. I use that word as a broad brush stroke to describe their ability to love and serve others even when they too are tired and sad.
Tom and I have traditionally come here each year for a time of renewing. I was torn about coming this time because I did not want to leave our precious and loving children as they too are very sad. But it seemed wise and it gave them a chance to muck through the shock of sorrow without having to take care of mom too. (But rest assured they have done so from a distance. And I often absorb their strength and love into my very being.)
We are all learning that you always have love and memories to carry you from one tidal wave of grief to the next. Love and memories are spiritual life boats when one grieves such a good person’s death.
The other morning we were pulling some special healthy brand of bread from the freezer for some toast. Kevin cut it and then I toasted it. But the loaf was very long and narrow and it had air pockets in it that left a gaping hole in the middle. It looked more like a ring of bread than a slice of bread.
In a silly moment of childlike abandon I held the bread up to my eye and looked through it at my nephew, Zach. I could only see part of his face. Of course I giggled and looked at other things in the room too for the fun of it. And I suddenly felt a burst of hope.
It struck me.. . right now I am looking at life through a ring of grief and it limits my vision. But faith and life experience tell me that my vision will expand more and more as I step through the hole and welcome the whole of life as a gift from the Shepherd who sees all and is always Present.
I think Mr. Tom gave Solomon strict orders to help me (and SJ) to keep playing because more often than not it is in play, humor, and lightness (very strong features Tom brought to our corner of the planet) that we most easily learn what the heart needs to know. Then it is easier to be still and listen to what the Shepherd is whispering in our ear.
Thank you all of you subscribers for the many many words of love and encouragement.
Now let’s play in today’s pastures with love and hope.
Margie and The Boys.
