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dreamprayact

~ Reflections of a preacher, poet, and contemplative activist

dreamprayact

Tag Archives: loss

Prayer to a Great Blue Heron

27 Monday Sep 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Prayers, Reflections

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Breathing, fear, gratitude, grief, loss, paying attention, prayer

Prayer to a Great Blue Heron

You’ve met me twice recently by the lake,
with your elegant serene pose,
standing so still I almost didn’t see you.

The first time I was with a friend – 
someone who knew you,
whom I had asked to meet me.

I needed a friend – 
someone to interrupt the bleakness
of all this unwanted time alone.

I was afraid.

I was always taught not to show fear – 
a lesson in protecting oneself,
well-intentioned but poor advice.

For when facing down a soul
burdened with the harshness of grief,
there are times when fear is all there is.

Fear of crumbling into a million pieces,
fear of forgetting the touch, smell, taste
of your beloved in the passage of time,

fear of being hollowed out by sadness,
fear of being swallowed up by loneliness,
fear of losing purpose.

So many fears.

The next time I spotted you at the lake
I nearly missed you altogether.
You didn’t move or make a sound.

Yet there you stood as regal as before,
exquisite in your muted tones against the reeds,
blending in to this world of water and sky.

I stopped to breathe,
to wonder at your presence,
to say thank you.

Is this you accompanying me in my fear?
Is this you beckoning me to pay attention?

I pray that it is.

Mark Lloyd Richardson
September 27, 2021
8 months

A world ended on this day

19 Friday Mar 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Blessings, death, empathy, grief, loss, mortality, trauma, vulnerability

A world ended on this day

January 27, 2021

I didn’t truly understand before
how deep loss can pull you under
how traumatic death can feel
how it ends a world

I knew that death was profoundly painful
for the ones left behind
I knew it was life-altering
I knew it was accompanied by many tears
and heart-stopping screams in the night
and even cursing of the darkness
but I didn’t really understand

I knew that life is fragile
that our days are not guaranteed
that while we bear the divine image
we live in mortal bodies
and that it can all end in an instant

I knew that I wanted to show others empathy
that I wanted to accompany them in their pain
and that because of my calling 
I was a visible reminder of the holy
whenever I visited the dying or grieving
but I didn’t really understand

A world ended for me this day

January 27, 2021

While the world around me carried on
as though nothing had happened
my world collapsed
it burned itself out
it shut itself down
it ended

My world was you and me
in all the sacred messiness of our relationship
in all the hopefulness for life yet to be lived
in all the simple joys of faithful companionship
in all the blessings of traveling this road together

Then in a moment it was gone

And I finally began to understand

Had I tried to imagine the searing pain
the throbbing heartache
the sickening permanency
that accompanies such a loss
I doubt I could have

Empathy only reaches so far

So here I am
wounded
disoriented
vulnerable
frightened
alone

A world ended for me this day
It was the world with you, my beloved, in it

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson
March 18, 2021

The only thing to do

18 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

death, devotion, grief, loss, sorrow

There is no adequate consolation right now
There is no this is going to get better
There is no lessening of the sorrow
I cannot see the path forward
Only darkness, nothingness
I see no future
No home for me
Not without my beloved
Though I am told there is one

I am also told she lives now in my heart
Or that she lives on in the memories we made
Or that she will always be with me in spirit
None of which is enough right now
I want her
Her body, her mind, her sprightly spirit
Only her presence soothes me
Only she gives a day meaning beyond itself

Being a partner with her in life meant everything
She was my safe harbor in the storm
She knew me better than anyone ever has
She loved me fiercely in spite of my shortcomings
She was protective of me and of our love
She spoke so endearingly to me and about me
In the absence of these, who am I

Most of all she made my heart sing
Especially watching her love this life
A life we were creating together
And seeing her revel in genuine friendships
And laughing with such ease
And appreciating the small gifts hidden within each day
And hearing her tender words to me
And tasting her sweet lips
And feeling her body next to mine
There is no consolation for losing these things
There is no adequate measure to the loss I feel

In the meantime,
I will get up in the mornings as best I can
I will look for life wherever I can find it
If only for you, sweetheart
I will remember our devotion to one another
I will not lose sight of how deeply you loved me
I will grieve, and then grieve some more
It is the only thing to do
It is the only thing
You, Dally, make my heart sing
Though for now the song is awash in tears

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson

A Lesson in Letting Go

20 Thursday Feb 2014

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in Reflections

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

church, church leadership, compassion, doing justice, followers of Jesus, God's blessing, God's Realm, human imperfection, John Wesley, loss, Methodism, Pastoral ministry, spiritual community

Some days, even after thirty-some years of active parish ministry, I simply don’t feel that well suited to being a pastor.

A disappointment tips the scale, and I am gripped by a growing sense of discouragement.

A loss is felt – either because people move away, because of a death, or simply as a result of the shifting landscape of peoples’ spiritual lives or family dynamics – and I grieve all over again for the way these losses tear at the fabric of community.

Life is difficult. I get it. I am a pastor, and I am well accustomed with the challenges and struggles people experience – not only those within my pastoral charge (as we Methodists refer to our flocks), but those well beyond it, in the larger community and among the circles of relationship of those I know. Yet this doesn’t lessen the impact of disappointment or loss.

“The world is my parish,” John Wesley once said. Pastors aren’t appointed to churches to be mere chaplains. We are sent among God’s people to equip them to be ministers in the world. Pastors are like personal trainers, helping others get in spiritual shape so that they can live as followers of Christ for the sake of the world. Trouble is, too often people are content to purchase a bargain gym membership and then fail to show up and work out! The church atrophies. Leadership dries up. People walk away.

I still believe that God wants to bless the whole world, no exceptions! And so I get up each morning knowing that the work is not going to be easy. My hope and desire is that my efforts for the sake of God’s realm on earth will bear fruit, but I am also realizing that I don’t control the results of anything. Not really.

I am learning to turn my work over to the Spirit of God who moves about freely in the world without regard to human borders or divisions. I am learning to release the imperfect work of my hands, my heart, my mind and my spirit, to the one wise God who is able to use even me to create a more just and compassionate world.

(c) 2014 Mark Lloyd Richardson

A Dog’s Last Will & Testament

22 Sunday Dec 2013

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in Dogs

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

canine companion, Christmas, healing, loss, Pomeranian, poodle mix, rescue dogs

bailey 3A year ago, just a few days before Christmas, my wife Dallis and I walked into a dog rescue organization “just to look.” We walked through the kennels, and in one we saw four small dogs. Three of them were jumping and barking as you might expect. The fourth one sat there quietly in the chaos and looked at us with eyes that said, “Well, are you going to let me out, or what?” We asked to see him. Then we walked him on a leash, and he didn’t seem to have a clue about that. But he was trusting and he liked to be held. So we took him home on a “trial basis” — no papers signed, no promises, no nothing! Within half-an-hour our hearts were hooked.

It had been almost a year since we lost our Pomeranian named Sadie, who died suddenly of congestive heart failure at the age of just eight years old. Our hearts were still a little tender. But Bailey entered our lives just before Christmas, much to our surprise, and helped in the healing process.

I ran across the piece below written by an unknown author that helps me to remember that the grief of loss is soothed by finding another pet to love.

bailey 2
Bailey was initially found wandering the streets of our city. He was in bad shape. He was held at the county shelter right up to the day before his time on earth was scheduled to expire. But the strange and wonderful serendipity of him entering our lives is that we initially thought we were “rescuing” him, and it turns out that he “rescued” us. He came into our lives right at the right time, and he makes us laugh at least once a day!

Here’s the piece titled, “A Dog’s Last Will and Testament,” author unknown. I imagine Sadie, who wasn’t all that crazy about other dogs, approving nonetheless of us finding another canine companion to share our home. Some of her toys and beds remain, and Bailey now enjoys them.

Before humans die, they write their Last Will & Testament, and give their home and all they have to those they leave behind.

If, with my paws, I could do the same, this is what I’d ask…

To a poor and lonely stray I’d give:
My happy home,
My bowl,
My cozy bed,
My soft pillows and all my toys,
The lap which I loved so much,
The hand that stroked my fur and the sweet voice which spoke my name.
I’d will to the sad, scared shelter dog the place I had in my human’s heart, of which there seemed no bounds.

So when I die please do not say, “I will never have a pet again, for the loss and pain is more than I can stand.” Instead, go find an unloved dog; one whose life has held no joy or hope and give MY place to him. This is the only thing I can give … the love I left behind.

bailey 5

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