Rev. Diane Rollert
October 20, 2019
Spirit of Life
Ground of our being,
the sun rises over abandoned grain silos
and construction cranes
that tower over golden trees.
Gulls dance in the early morning light,
their white wings gliding on the cool breeze,
crying out for life
with no thought of death.
But we each have our stories to tell.
When we speak of death
it’s always personal.
Even as we struggle to think in abstractions,
our deepest feelings
rise to the surface.
We think of those
we have loved and lost,
the ones who gave us unconditional love,
and the ones who danced with us
through unresolved and complicated relationships.
Always, there is a need for forgiveness,
for the unspoken words,
the things left undone,
the visits we didn’t make in time,
the guilt, the exhaustion,
the wondering,
“Did I do enough?”
There are the fears we hide,
and the final goodbyes,
the aching questions:
Why must we suffer?
Who will remember us?
Will we be alone or guided by gentle hands?
Can there be dignity
in our final hours?
All I know is that I can love this moment,
love this community,
love this life,
love this breath,
Love those I have lost
for the gifts they given me
through their living
and through their letting go.
Together we can cherish the memories.
We can allow ourselves to be blessed
by the spirit that remains,
knowing with each passing day,
that grief is a reminder
that love endures,
that tenderness can still surround
the emptiness in our hearts,
for having been so deeply
touched
by what was.
It’s not easy
coming into this world.
It’s not easy leaving it.
Yet we live and seek meaning
between these two most sacred moments
that define our existence.
May we find comfort and assurance
in the covenants we share,
in our ever-changing, ever-evolving
relationship with life,
with love and community.
Amen.