Continuing to reflect on Nicholas Wolterstorff article (see the last two day's posts) he writes "....:my faith endured. But it would be a different kind of faith, a faith that incorporated Eric's death and my grief. And that would reveal to me a different kind of God, more mysterious. My relationship with my fellow human beings also changed: I felt an emotional affinity, often unspoken, with those whom I knew were also in grief."
There are a couple of layers in that quotation with which I agree. When Joanne died I found most religious talk unhelpful. Largely because that talk was too sure about realities that can best be described as hope. Of course we hope; but we don't know. When he writes of emotional affinity with those who were also in grief, that is so true. There is a unique companionship with other travelers in the land of grief. Wayne and Sindy usually sat near us in church. Sindy's death was near Joanne's. Now (before the pandemic) when Wayne sits with me at church I say "Welcome to the widower's bench." Sam, who kindly sent me this article for my reflection, and for which I'm grateful, also is widower sojourning in the land of grief. After Joanne died, and before his beloved Mary died, he regularly reached out to me reminding me that I was not alone, and now we travel together in that land.
Takk for alt,
Al
PS Life returns! My new reading lamp arrived today. While I was waiting I turned to Kindle and downloaded Nomadland and got a good start reading it.
No comments:
Post a Comment