Finding our Middle – 40 Days with Anna

Day 8 – Thursday after 1st Sunday of Lent 

To Read:

So many times she would stop just in front of me and hold out her closed hands.  I learned rapidly what to expect on these occasions.  It meant that she had found something that had moved her.  We would stop and inspect whatever the day’s find was – perhaps a beetle, a caterpillar, or a stone.  We would look silently, heads bowed over today’s treasure.

Her eyes were large deep pools of questions.  How?  Why?  What?

I’d meet her gaze and nod my head; this was enough, she’d nod in reply.

The first time this happened, my heart seemed to come off its hook.  I struggled to hold on.  I wanted to put my arms around her to comfort her.  Happily, I managed to do the right thing.  I guess some passing angel nudged me at the right moment.  

Unhappiness is to be comforted, and so perhaps too is fear, but these particular moments with Anna were moments of pure and undiluted wonder.  These were her own and very private moments which she chose to share with me, and I was honoured to share them with her.  I could not comfort her, I would not have dared to trespass.  All that I could do was to see as she saw, to be moved as she was moved.  That kind of suffering you must bear alone.  As she said so simply, ‘It’s for me and Mister God’, and there’s no answer to that.

From the Scriptures:

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. ¹⁵ Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep. ¹⁶ Live in harmony with one another; do not be arrogant, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. ¹⁷ Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. ¹⁸ If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.   (Romans 12v14-18)

To Reflect:

I am a self-confessed Gobby vicar.  I talk too much.  I have an opinion on everything.  I almost always want the last word as well as the first.  I have enough words to fill a dictionary several times over and cannot understand why people don’t seek out my advice on every single part of their life.

In common with many of my calling I justify my verbosity as proclamation of the Word of God and my endless interference in the lives of others as pastoral care.  Perhaps (in line with that garrulity) I am even now exaggerating this self-portrait of mine but there is definitely some truth in what I have written.  On my more fey days I long to hear this verse of the Canticle of the Creatures sung at my funeral:

And thou, most kind and gentle death,
waiting to hush our latest breath,
O praise him, alleluia!
Thou leadest home the child of God,
and Christ our Lord the way has trod:

There will come a day, a glorious day, when Mister God will stand very close to me and whisper in my ear, ‘Hush now Andrew, you don’t need to speak anymore.  Just listen to the angels’ song.’

When someone, as Anna does with Fynn, brings you the ‘deep pools of questions.  How?  Why?  What?’  words are sometimes the last thing that is needed.  There are moments when all we can do is stand by in silence and try to see as the other person sees and to be moved as they are moved.  This is what it means to ‘Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep’.

During my second curacy, in the time when I still had the grace to know that I didn’t know everything, I was at a service of prayer for healing.  One of my friends stumbled forward to kneel at the communion rail for prayer.  He was crying constantly and his body was wracked with the tremors of his sobbing.  I went to kneel next to him to offer him words of comfort and reassurance of God’s healing when I met Fynn’s angel.  I wanted to provide answers but all I could do was kneel and weep in sympathy with him.  Afterwards he came to me and told me how close he was to suicide and the last thing he needed was someone offering yet another anodyne statement about how God holds everything in their hand.  My silent presence, he said, had helped him to listen more closely to God’s voice and find God’s healing and purpose for his life. 

Sometimes there comes a time when ‘It’s for me and Mister God’ and all we can do is watch and wonder and rejoice that no matter how alone we, or those close to us, may feel God stands with us.

 

Please Note:  These reflections are also published on my blog: suffolkvicarhomes.com on Bluesky as @suffolkvicar.bsky.social, and on my public Facebook page  Suffolk Vicar – Rev Andrew Dotchin.  If you would like them as a daily email please send a request to revdotchin@gmail.com

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