39 Comments

Yesterday I was grieving my daughter who is living. She's a fentanyl addict. So much grief for the loss of all the parts of her. Your words were timely. My head knows he is in this with me. My heart fails to recognize it some days. He is in the very fabric of our lives. Thank you, Nadia.

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So many parts get lost in addiction, you're right. But many do remain. Sending love.

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Thank you Nadia - I am a pastor and it seems the burdens just keep getting heavier. I have doubts that make me question my calling... And then, I read something you've written - a sermon, a thought, and it speaks to my heart. I did my own sermon on these verses yesterday and spoke of how Jesus' grief legitimizes our own but I love how you say it. You are a treasure. All the best to you and your ministry this week.

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Thanks, Dave. Blessings on your ministry.

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Amen and thanks be to God.

"It’s hard to imagine grieving a friend and then having his family blame you for his death." I actually don't have to imagine this. I've experienced it directly.

After one of my sponsees overdosed, her sister asked me "Why didn't you do something to stop her from this? You were supposed to be helping her." It's clear their family didn't understand the role of a sponsor, but still.... Ouch. At the time I was pretty torn up about it, not unlike the temple curtain tears at Jesus' death. (As I hear/understand it....) God rips God's own garment in grief much like the Jewish tradition of mourning, but in doing so God's heart is opened to everyone everywhere all at once. I don't think this particular interaction was that drastic, and yet it opened my heart a bit more to empathy for the skeptical and fearful families watching their children and siblings and long-time best friends try to get sober with the help of another drunk. (Which, let's be honest, from the outside looking in probably just sounds like the blind leading the blind.) So, maybe that accusation of Martha's was actually a transformative moment for Jesus, ripping his heart open just enough to begin preparing him for the ultimate sacrifice he'd eventually make for all the Marthas and Lazaruses out there. Perhaps.

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This opened my heart up even more today, thank you for your words.

"God rips God's own garment in grief much like the Jewish tradition of mourning, but in doing so God's heart is opened to everyone everywhere all at once."

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Yes. And what heartbreak to have a sponsee die.

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Truly devastating. Today I'm glad nobody told me ahead of time that getting and staying sober would involve a larger than average number of funerals, or I might not have been willing to do so.

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Honey I’ve said this same thing so many times. It’s true. 💔

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Thank you for that great illustration of God ripping his own garment. He is so personable in the best ways and in the worst moments. I'll never forget that visual!

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Thank you for this. My kids and I are walking through the valley of the shadow of death this week as we withdraw my husband’s medical support.

We have seen and felt God’s weft weave its way in and among us in so many ways. It is a sacred, liminal time and space for us and for him. And thankfully we have a huge community of family and friends journeying with us. ❤️💔❤️

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Sending love your way, Sally.

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my prayers are with you and your family in the days ahead. may you be surrounded by loving kindness.

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Thank you so much.

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Love to you and your family, Sally.

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Nadia, no one captures our human experiences and responses like you do. I feel seen in your words and the metaphor of God as weaver will inspire me always. Thank you!

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One of your best, Pastor. Thank you.

I’ve sometimes wondered how Lazarus feels, knowing he will have to experience physical death a second time. When I reflect on it, I really find it confusing. Was he less afraid? Did he tell others it’s really not so bad?

I volunteer with an organization that attempts to find a cure for ALS. One day I was talking with a couple patients, and the topic of how it would feel the day a cure was found. One PAL (Person with ALS) joked “We get to die of something else”.

Not trying to darken or make light of the mood. Just adding another thought

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but it's true!

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Twist bands of blame around us like grave clothes......there's an image that sounds familiar. After 61 years, trying to lay those bands down. Your words are helpful in my journey. Thanks.

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I hope you can indeed lay them down and leave them down

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I must admit that I leaned over to my friend yesterday during the reading and said, "why couldn't he save Lee?". My brother died suddenly in my arms two years ago and the grief is, at time, soul crushing. I miss him. I loved him. I can hear him now in my head and in my heart and I just really appreciate what you have written and the questions you posed. I worked as a professional lay person in the church for over 30 years and yesterday was one of the few times I've been to church in ten years. I just had to take a break after all that hubris. But the All Saints experience and the baptisms and seeing all the "stories" go up for communion and return down the aisles made me realize that my loneliness was soothed by being there. So, thank you. for all the saints including Lazarus who, though grateful, probably had a hard time coming back.

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I am actually a weaver, so this metaphor speaks profound truth to me!

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Thank you, Nadia. Your words are both balm and inspiration.

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Oh, how I love this, Sister! The last part reminded me of a bit of poetry I once wrote almost thirty years ago for my beloved that I think now maybe was God speaking to all of us who are His: "My heart is woven with your heart and has been since our first kiss and all our kisses in this life are silken threads upon God's loom."

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Your post and thoughts inspired my own. Thanks again!

https://themjkxn.substack.com/p/rise-up-my-soul

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Sorry, and not to be a bummer to your good words and they are good words but as i wrassle and wrassle with this and other similar jesus episodes, I cannot shake the seeing of Jesus as anything else but listening/hearing only the the wheel that squeeks the loudest. Not much of a squeeker, I feel left out.

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Zacchaeus! Come down out of that tree, for tonight I dine at your house!

Not much of a squeaker either and was not only seen, but given the biggest gift that Jesus had to give while walking the earth- his undivided attention.

I think it's probably the same today. No squeaking needed. Only a willingness to open up your house to give your undivided attention to his.

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For me, it seems I am a spirt having a human experience. The one and only God created this beautiful world for humans to experience much and many and grow closer.

Feelings and emotions come from the heart, logic and reason from the head and as we grow closer to our higher power the heart seems to overrule the head.

Jesus in his short but extraordinary life demonstrates a path, a behavior that humans must follow. We live in the tension between light and darkness and Jesus shows a path to the light.

Would seem that the 5 major religions are all headed towards the same God but with a variable path.

Humanity is blessed and suffering and humility are part of the necessary training.

Go figure

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"That of which we think, there’s surely already a stench so why bother?" That really hit me - it's a very practical objection, after all, and yet the story tells of an impractical, impossible possibility, of a reason to bother.

Also made me think of Carrie Newcomer's haunting song about Lazarus:

https://youtu.be/cZ2Z0WKAny0?feature=shared

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This section of your post (below) has given me an opening in my heart and mind into compassion and understanding for those on the opposite sides of the political divide in the US and beyond.

We are all disfigured and weighed down by our grief, whether it is caused by the NEW or the OLD ways being demonized , or the FEAR of Change bringing uncertainty.

It disfigures us all and the Gravity of Grief brings us to a deeper place where we find it hard to see clearly in the darkness.

This is JUST what I needed to hear, along with your words about the tears of Jesus that reminded me that . . .

God, Divine Love, Grieves it all, with us and for us.

Much Love to you all,

and Bless you Nadia for your open pipeline that brings you the most beautiful words from the Divine.

"You who have been there know that grief can vacuum up all the oxygen in spaces we used to be able to breathe in. It can rearrange every room that used to be familiar. Grief can change gravity itself. Grief can disfigure us. And for Mary it looked like saying to Jesus if you were here my people wouldn’t die.

I feel this. I know what it is like to reach for explanations and causes as a salve to soothe the anxiety of living in a chaotic and unpredictable world. And how this same impulse to find explanations leads me to the next logical desire – which is to assign blame. When I am in pain I prefer to have someone to blame if at all possible. A friend. A stranger. An enemy. The patriarchy. The church. Or more often than not, myself. And if that doesn't make me feel “better” then there’s the classic option of blaming God. If you’d been paying better attention, God, this wouldn’t have happened.

Grief can make us unrecognizable. No wonder people want to avoid it. And avoid people who are experiencing it."

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Loving, lovely. Thank you, Nadia.

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