I love All Saints Sunday although I must admit the love was not immediate--no my love for All Saints grew out of sheer terror. See, 17 years ago my eldest, Sarah Katherine, was baptized on All Saints Sunday. The day before, Chris and I sat in on an incredible baptismal preparation class, and I was already overwhelmed by the promises I was about to make on behalf of my child. That compounded with the All Saints hymns, readings, and sermon about did me in. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about the enormous responsibility of rearing a child in the faith. I just wanted a full night's sleep and yet here I was making promises about how I was going to live my life and how I was going to help my child grow in faith. Two months before when leaving the hospital, Chris and I were laughing that the hospital staff was actually letting us leave with a baby--that's how prepared we felt. On that Sunday 17 years ago, I was not laughing.
What I missed that day, and what I have learned more and more since helps me to understand why we even celebrate All Saints. Simply, I didn't need to live in fear that day because we are all a part of the community of saints Yes I was making some profound promises, but I was making them surrounded by a witness of many Saints who had gone before, and I was making them within a community of faith that would continue to nurture our family and be our present day saints.
That lesson first became apparent in Athens, GA. Wednesday morning women's Bible study became my source of community, my place of hope and love. All the women were wonderful, but two in particular nurtured me, challenged me and loved me through some of the most difficult days of rearing children and coming to grips with an alcoholic mother. They loved me in spite of my flaws; they loved my children; they encouraged me by sharing their stories of pain and joy as they reared their own children; and they have not left me--both women are still very much a part of my life Saint Betsy and Saint Fran.
I left the womb of Athens and moved onto Pittsburgh where I was again surrounded by a community of saints. One woman in particular cared for me and loved me again with all my flaws, my youthful arrogance, and my loneliness and pain. She was rearing three fabulous children who became family to mine. So many times in the years which have passed, when I was faced with a difficult situation with the children or with friends, I would think "What would Janie do?" And I was blessed last spring to spend time with my Saint Janie.
Fast forward a few years, and a move to England. I truly did love living there. There were challenges (it's very cold); and there was loneliness, but I grew in ways I never imagined I could. I began the discernment process in England and that process forced me to really look at myself, who I was not only as a wife and mother but as person called by God into ministry. There were (and still are) many times, I nostalgically crave those days of being home all day, baking and ironing and volunteering, but this saint never let me stay in the past. She pushed me, challenged me, and sometimes straight out nagged me to "just get on with it." When Chris was offered a job back in his hometown of Louisville, I was ready to give up on the process and return to a role I loved, but she wouldn't let me. She sided with Chris and said that I was not to move back if my process was to stop. Saint Helena saw me as a loving wife and mother, but more importantly she saw me and forced me to see myself as a child of God.
For these women and so many more, I give thanks. And that is why I fell in love with All Saints Sunday--it is a day I remember them; I honor them, and I thank them.
No comments:
Post a Comment