On hollowness and hallowedness…

Tags

abundance, empty, God, good, gratitude, grief, hallow, hollow, house, memories, moving, sadness, tradition, transition

Photo credit:  https://www.nationalpropertytrade.co.uk/dealing-with-empty-property/

As I mentioned recently, I have moved a lot in my lifetime.  If my calculations are correct, I have moved about 15 times (and that’s only counting college once, despite the fact that I moved to a different dorm every year, and twice my junior year).  As you might imagine, the moves have occurred over a lifetime – from as young as one-year old to this move in my late thirties.

At some point over the years of moving I developed a tradition.  When the whole house is empty, the truck fully loaded, and the cars ready to pull out, I quietly slip back into the house and walk through every room.  There is something about the hollowness of an empty home that you have lived in:  the echo of your feet as you walk through the house, the lingering hints of artwork once hung, and even the scents of people or food.  There is an ache that the emptiness causes – a finality like none other.  But there is also the rush of memories:  the child you brought home from the hospital, the sleepless nights as the toddler transitioned to a “big girl bed,” the parties and family celebrations, and the countless visitors.  In the silence of the empty house you can hear the hint of years of laughter, remember the nights of tears shed, feel the warmth of a child rocked to sleep, and see the shadows left by the lamp as you wrote by night.  Though the house is empty, the house has been your home, steeped in love for however long you have been there.  The hollowness reveals the hallowedness of the space.

This week I continued the tradition.  Though I have given myself little time to grieve the phase of my life’s journey, tonight I realized how sad I am to close this chapter.  God has been so very good to us here – four years of marriage and children and work and play is a lot.  We have been blessed by new friends and experiences.  We have grown and changed for the better.  In the quiet of the house, I am deeply grateful for the abundance God has shown us.  God is good.  All the time.

Advertisements

Reconciling Preparedness and Blessedness

Tags

blessed, church, God, good, gratitude, moving, packers, plan, prepared, transition, wonderful

Photo credit:  www.bestofboston.com/best-of-boston-all-stars-liberty-hotel/

For those of you who know me well, you know that I am not the friend you want nearby in case of an emergency.  I’m not the quickest thinker on my feet.  I could tell you of countless stories involving blood and fire at construction sites to prove my point.  Knowing that weakness, I tend to compensate through preparation.  I will plan, think through various contingencies, and consult experts to make sure that if an emergency comes up, I do not have to think on my feet as much – I’ve already figured out various scenarios.

So for a consummate planner and preparer, you can imagine how this move has put me over the edge.  I, perhaps crazily, decided that my last Sunday at my current parish would be Easter Sunday.  The movers would come later in the week, and then we would head out by week’s end.  I had a plan.  But then I forgot how busy Lent and Holy Week are.  I forgot how challenging dealing with children who are on break can be.  I forgot how many logistics would be necessary for buying a new home, starting new schools, and starting a new job.  I forgot how much time I would need to commit to spending time pastorally with the parishioners who had been in my care for the last four-plus years.  Consequently, when the packers arrived today, I was nowhere near as prepared for them as I had planned.

Now that may not sound like a big deal, but as someone who is a crazy planner and as someone who has moved more times than I can count, this a grave disappointment.  By Wednesday night I was in a panic about how little was done.  I was aghast at my lack of preparation.  All that purging, all that organizing, all those donations, all that cleaning I had planned went mostly undone.  For someone like me, this is the ultimate anxiety-inducing experience.

So this morning, as I sit with packers in a flurry around me, I am working on breathing.  I am working on accepting I have done what I can do.  Despite my inner criticism, I am working on listening to the reassuring voice of God telling me, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  Instead of concentrating on the list of incomplete things, I am reflecting on all the good and wonderful things of these last weeks:  heartfelt goodbyes, beautiful liturgies, yummy food, laughter and tears, and hugs and kisses.  I am recalling all the blessings of these years with St. Margaret’s and the community of Plainview.  And I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the ways that God has been with me in the midst of it all.  I am gloriously unprepared today – but that lack of preparation has opened a window for the goodness of God to take over.  Thanks be to God!!