Deep well of sorrow

It has welled up in me again. This very deep well of sorrow It is a grief beyond any known before. I have loved and lost before: two cousins to suicide, grandmothers, my only grandfather, a great aunt,  a mother's cousin, serious loved relationships that failed.  I have moved from towns, cities, communities in what number 33 moves now. There has been change, loss, and even grief for shifting relationships and jobs. And while one is strong and resilient, none of that has really prepared me for the tremendous sorrow that has been experienced over this past year and a bit of re-entry into Canada.

There is grief for severed connections and relationships, wondering how former parishioners are doing after journeying for years with them in their times of deep sorrows, fears, and worries. There is grief and loss over not walking any longer with those who struggle daily with difficult issues and tremendous challenges each day. When we in North America have so many financial resources (or access to those resources), we are still busy, working to make ends meet but seldom live without. One grieves not being there to listen, to support, to pray, and to journey with those precious Peruvian children of God. the play and laughter of children is missed, also. The children whose play and joy gives not a hint of the vulnerable and precarious realities of their world. One might not grieve for the conflict that erupts as a dormant volcano from time to time.Yet now, it is a missed opportunity for bringing peace, reconciliation and understanding, preaching and living the Gospel of life and salvation. This lived Gospel transforms mistrust and we can see the ways that God is working even through misunderstanding and conflict. To not be in ministry at this profound level marks a huge change of life and purpose. It creates and identity crisis of sorts.

One wonders the value of sending missionaries...the value of receiving missionaries, returned from such extreme circumstances, from being witnesses and sojourners with those suffering daily. One wonders the care that is given, now, to one's former congregation who had to wait 8 months, yes that's right, 8 months to receive the sacrament of holy communion. Such a pastoral shortage that one feels the children of God have been abandoned and ignored. Who are we as church if we are denying God's people the sacraments, the real means of grace as we proclaim them to be as Lutherans.

There is grief ....there is a deep well of sorrow and it rises to meet me from the depths of my gut, and at times it is difficult to breathe, to sleep. There are hopes and dreams for the ministry that have not, nor will ever, be realized now. There were trusted connections that have been severed. There were seeds planted, and I do not know the outcome of which have taken root, which will grow and sprout. The seeding had just begun amid the harshest of conditions. And all that was, is not the same.

The refiner's fire is more in the return than in the sending. This is a surprise! Canada four years later is a far cry from the one that was left. There is grief for the Canadian identity, being overshadowed in the name of development and under the guise of economic stability. Governmental dehumanizing decision-making affects not only our First Nations. Yet they are only ones speaking the truth. The rest are mesmerized by the almighty dollar, by bright, shiny new things. And it all sounds familiar. It sounds like a place one just left. And after years of waving the Canadian flag of it's better in my country, it is all rather disillusioning. The realities in my church and a sense of our loss of identity that parallels that of the Canadian identity is also deeply grieved.

The deep well of sorrow is mired with many complicating factors. Questions beg answers and there are none. It is a difficult struggle to accept what is and move forward. The Gospel and even Jesus, himself, calls us to not look back, to not be held back but to let go, name the truth, and move forward to "go and proclaim" the kingdom of God. It is a one day at a time journey. The grief will lessen. So I am told!

Few have understood. Few will ever understand the depth of sorrow, of loss, of loneliness that this journey has entailed. I grieve a people, a culture, a depth of faith and trust in God. Life is different here.

Let there be peace and grace abounding to help with the acceptance of what is a new reality and a new life here in this place. May the experiences, the loss, the grief, along with the joys of the last few years be a part of each cell, of each day. May God's love and grace reveal new life and possibility even as I struggle in the acceptance of what is, so that Gospel may also be lived and proclaimed here. God grant patience, understanding, and wisdom to replace the sorrow.

The day the boxes from Peru arrived!

With grace, peace and the love of God,

Pastora Fran