Today, I am preparing for a service for people affected by the death of a baby. Its something I have been involved in for the last ten years, since I was hospital chaplain. I count it a great privelege but in all my encounters with bereaved parents I have always been so conscious that their's is a club to which I do not belong. God knows I am thankful for that. I also feel so ill equipped to travel alongside them. Yet they, in their love and graciousness allow me to tread with them and be involved as they journey through grief and as they teach me how to take hold of life and journey on. And so, as in so many areas of ministry, I receive so much more than I can give.
Such a hard thing.
ReplyDeleteI know you will be sensitive and thoughtful in whatever you come up with. The hardest thing is that we actually have no words that can really help.
Check this:
http://iain-cs-random-reflections.blogspot.com/2006/08/blurred-reflections.html
Iain, thanks for the link. what a beautiful poem on your post.
ReplyDeleteHow I've enjoyed catching up on your beautiful blog entries.
ReplyDeleteThis one leaves me thinking how fortunate a bereaved parent would be to have you as a compassionate counselor.
cherie, thanks for your words that always build up. There are some ministries we are drawn to and others that seek us out. Working with bereaved parents has proved to be both for me - as well as bringing hunility and fulfilment.
ReplyDeleteMissed you this week.
I missed you, too.
ReplyDelete