Risk Rap

Rapping About a World at Risk

Restoration

My heart aches each year as we approach Columbus Day because it marks the anniversary of the death of  a young man who my family and I deeply loved.  The young man’s parents are long standing and very close family friends.  We went to college together when their son was born.  He was the first child of our inner group and we witnessed and experienced the arc of his life from cradle to grave.  So it is together in sadness that we share the arrival of this unfortunate day.

When we are confronted with the death of our children we are compelled to search for reasons. In earnest we ask questions and adamantly seek answers from a seemingly remote God whose silence leaves us feeling abandoned and confused. We throw up our arms and shake our fists at an ambivalent cosmos that stares us down with an infinite blackness that mirrors the condition of our soul and the depth of our pain. Anniversaries bring us back to the terrible moment when we learned of our beloved’s passing and all the feelings of dread, violation and terrible pain of that moment are relived again.

I remember coming home on that terrible day. I was standing by the sliding glass doors looking out on a beautiful autumn day.  My wife was not home and I asked my daughter where she was.  My daughter answered that my wife went to Aunt Sharon’s house and at that very moment the phone rang. It was my wife who in a stream of tears delivered the news of our young friend’s death. I collapsed onto a seat that was fortunately open at my side. It was as if an invisible locomotive knocked the wind and an ability to stand right out of me.

This death was not the first family member or close friend of mine to have died but it was one of the most painful.  Our friend’s vitality, his exuberant youthfulness, quixotic smile and potent life force were central to his identity and qualities that made us feel that his living presence would always surround us. When that life was quelled we are shaken by the realization that youthfulness is not an immutable truth that protects anyone from death.

The next year two days after Christmas my nephew passed away after a lifelong battle against Leukemia. My nephew was only 16 at the time of his passing, but God and his family filled his life with the knowledge that he was deeply loved.  My nephew fought the disease courageously and faithfully since he was 5 years old. During his life he had three major occurrences of the disease and after the third occurrence the Lord saw fit to call his beloved son home.

My nephew’s parents relied heavily on their faith to carry them through his sicknesses and implored God to heal their son. They prayed incessantly and faithfully to have the Lord restore their son’s health. It was not to be.

We question what purpose is served by the death of children and how could a benevolent God fail to answer our fervent prayers and allow this to happen? Those left behind remain haunted by our loved ones painful absence. We question our ability and effectiveness as parents and the meaning and necessity of a continued walk in the graceful light of God’s sure and abundant love that seemingly has abandoned us.

I believe our best response to these terrible instances of life is to continue a practice of a prayerful and sacramental life. There are many types of prayers. We petition the Beneficent One for things, we ask for guidance and strength, we give thanks, we ask for insights, clarity of thought, peace for the soul, restoration, revelation, protection and help for loved ones, and hope for the sight to perceive the daily grace that abundantly lights the pathways of our daily lives.

If prayer articulates our intentions and desires a sacramental life communicates that intention with firm action by binding devote love in response to the needs and human frailty of others. This connection helps fill the vacuous void left by the death of beloved family members and friends. It is the way we affirm the living power of unconditional love and anoint ourselves and others with the restorative balm of God’s sure presence during times of devastating tragedy, keen want, pointed vulnerability and consuming fear. The presence of The Deliverer is the outstretched hand, listening ear and kind heart open and ready to give and accept love. This sacramental dance nurtures us, uplifts others and keeps the memory our dearly departed close and ever fresh in our minds and hearts. It empowers us to live and feel the love that we hold in our hearts for our children that have passed. It emboldens our spirit. It brings to life the vitality of our children that have gone before us and allows the gift of their life to be a life force and real presence in the life of others.

If we continue to ask God for something and it is not given we need to assess the larger context of our desires and gain a deeper understanding of what it takes to achieve them. Maybe its time to create new life strategies and seek to discover new pathways to live out our life’s calling. Perhaps God is telling us it is time to begin to explore other solutions to our problems.

I think that is what God may be telling us when our children cross the River Jordan. Blessed with an understanding that our life must now be lived in a different context we become open to the possibilities and “newness of life” that Jesus Christ promises. The Good Shepard promises an abundant life. I pray that all God’s children may enjoy that promise of abundance by generously sharing it with others.

For all the dearly departed and those who remain.

Peace and Prayers

You Tube Music Video: Stevie Wonder, Ribbon in the Sky

Risk: restoration, recovery,wellness, faith

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October 8, 2010 - Posted by | death, faith, life, love, service | , , , , , , ,

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