Do NOT fret...

This morning I woke up earlier than usual and spent time getting church emails sent and sipping hot tea. Two things are gnawing at me - both are beyond my control - and both require surrender.  And, as I have noted often in the past, that comes neither easily nor clearly to me (or most people, I suspect.)  Curiously, both concerns have to do with elderly folk - a failing older person within the church and my father - who are stubborn and often beyond help.

My dad, at 82, continues to get weaker and can't live by himself much longer.  To say that historically he has NOT taken care of himself would be a gross understatement.  And that neglect continues to bear fruit as he ages.  For years, since my mother's death, he has avoided and deflected any conversation (let alone planning) about the time when he could no longer live alone in his home.  But now with increased falling and other health problems, that hour is upon us.  My two wise and generous sisters have started the conversation and now a family-wide confab is being arranged to move things into an action phase.  Like many American families, there are no good solutions and precious few resources, so we will make do knowing that his stubbornness (and rights) may take it our best laid plans South.

The elderly soul at church is moving towards death: slowly. For years this person has been incrementally fading away.  A few years back, on my way to make a pastoral visit, I got delayed and called to say I would be late.  I asked my secretary to phone ahead to let my friend know and to offer the possibility of rescheduling.  We were, however, rebuffed and told that they didn't want any more visits.  My lateness, it seems, evoked anger - so the pastoral call was cancelled en route.  I hate to upset folk in my church for no good reason (truth be told, there ARE good reasons to cause a fuss, but this wasn't one.)  So, I ate it that day and waited for a few weeks to check back.

When we called back from time to time over the next few months, we were always told not to visit any more.  Other lay folk from the congregation still periodically visited so I've been able to keep up to date with changes, so I chose to honor this person's decision.  Mostly, when people become angry, I treat them like adults and don't try to fix things beyond my control.  There are, you see, consequences to our actions and words.  And to the best of my knowledge, that's what we tried to live into here, too.  Does it make me sad? Of course.  In times past we'd had a rich relationship and I had visited and helped out regularly.  But as my old friend changed - and now drifts closer to death - so did our connection and it became increasingly sad. 

What troubles me today is that there are some who suggest that I should have done more to be attentive and compassionate to this person. They don't know the whole story (how often is THAT the case) but ultimately in ministry that doesn't matter, right? For some, perception is reality and it is easier to blame another than grieve ourselves. And when that happens, I always second guess myself:  there is no point in it and nothing gets better, but I still go to doubt as my default position.  Ugh! And while I know intellectually and professionally this is an ugly dead-end, I still find myself heading there from time to time.

That is why my AA friends say that you have to WORK the steps. They don't help automatically, they have to be practiced and refined. They have to become a living and breathing part of my daily spirituality. What's more, my intimacy with God's grace requires spending time with the Lord in quiet.  And at this time of year it is all too easy for me to get out of balance given holiday preparations, family problems and stewardship campaigns.

Fr. Richard Rohr recently wrote that one of the reasons we have pain - and by implication anxiety and doubt - is to help us pay attention. The wound is communicating with us - albeit in an upside down way - and aches to bring us to peace.  He speaks of this as "falling upwards" or letting our failures ground us more deeply in grace.  So over and again, like Siddhartha, I find myself back at the same place before the same river praying:  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Like many, part of me HATES not being in control.  I want to fix everything and want it all to work out the best for me. Better to turn, however, to my old friend in Psalm 37:

 Do not fret because of the wicked;
   do not be envious of wrongdoers, 
for they will soon fade like the grass,
   and wither like the green herb. 

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
   so you will live in the land, and enjoy security. 
Take delight in the Lord,
   and he will give you the desires of your heart. 

Commit your way to the Lord;
   trust in him, and he will act. 
He will make your vindication shine like the light,
   and the justice of your cause like the noonday. 

Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him;
   do not fret over those who prosper in their way,
   over those who carry out evil devices. 

Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath.
   Do not fret—it leads only to evil...

Wait for the Lord, and keep to his way,

   and he will exalt you to inherit the land.

And so it goes...