Emptied

“Emptied.” That’s the word and image that stayed with me while listening to the Christ Hymn from Philippians 2. Though he was in the form of God, Jesus did not grasp at or exploit his divinity, but emptied himself and became one of us. The word is echoing in my soul.

Paul tells us to have the same mind in us as was in Jesus who emptied himself to become one of us. There are many ways that we can empty ourselves. This week I am thinking particularly of some folks who have emptied themselves, or are being emptied, of illusions. It’s an illusion when we think we are in control. It’s an illusion when we think we, or someone we love, will live forever. Whatever the illusions are in our lives, they can keep us from seeing the truth. It often hurts to let go of the illusion but it is the only way to become free.

In the midst of the pain, I pray that I may not grasp at or hold on to that which does not truly give life, but that I may be emptied to step into new life. And that is my prayer for those who relationships are changing; who are watching loved ones die; who are seeing their lives become different than they imagined. As we head into Holy Week and walk the way of sorrows with Jesus, I pray that we may come to an Easter morning of resurrection so bright that everything is new.

Philippians 2:5-7

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.

Jesus' Touch

This week, Max kept emphasizing that we need at least ten hugs a day, as he would come up to give me a hug. One of his friends at school has been going around giving hugs, saying “10 hugs a day.”

Last Saturday, I went to a cancer survivors retreat hosted by the Oncology Nurse Society. One chair at each table had a blank post-it note hidden on it. This note entitled the bearer to a 10-minute chair massage. I had the note from my table, and went for my turn during the afternoon break.

I’ve had massages before but never one in an official massage chair. The pads were soft on my knees and my head was cradled comfortably with my forearms resting on a pad in the front. As the masseur massaged my back and neck, I could feel my muscles relax a bit, Since my eyes were closed, I was caught off guard as he began to massage my hands, and memories flooded back in.

Touch has always been important to me. Jeff would sometimes hold hands as we walked but he never liked to do much cuddling. When we would travel by car the passenger had a couple of main jobs. The first was to read aloud to the driver. We read The Lord of the Rings triology, Madeleine L’Engle’s books, C.S. Lewis’ space trilogy and lots of others. The second task is that as the driver’s hands became tired with holding the wheel, the passenger would give a hand massage. It is one of the most wonderful gifts that someone can give—to have the tension and stress eased out through each finger until it all goes out through the tip of the pinkie.

Max’s hugs, hand massages—these are ways that God uses the hands and arms of others to offer healing. As we sing in one of my favorite hymns Now the Green Blade Riseth: “When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain, Jesus’ touch can call us back to life again, fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been: Love is come again, like wheat that springeth green.”

Matthew 8:15

He touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up and began to serve him.

Anxious Moments

Often we hear that it is change that makes us anxious. Last Friday I was at a conference where one of the presenters conjectured that it’s not so much change that makes us anxious, but pain that brings us anxiety-- either experiencing it or fearing it.

Last year, during Jeff’s last several weeks, he kept asking for more and more pain medicine. His doctor and nurses didn’t deny his experience of pain, but they were baffled at the rapid increase. When his doctor finally prescribed an anti-anxiety medication without further increasing the pain meds, Jeff reported that his pain was better. His pain was real, but it was also being intensified by his anxiety at the fear of having pain or of not being able to control it.

I have never had to experience the level of physical pain he had, but I know that I find myself anxious when I face other kinds of pain. And so in my seeking to control my anxiety, I am most likely to either avoid –flee from the possible source—or comfort myself by feeding, consuming my way through it. I have been doing a lot of the latter in the last several months, eroding much of the good I had done for my body and health. As I realize this, I know that I am going to have move back out of a reactionary mode into a more thinking, reflective mode. This is going to be hard, and even the thought of that raises my anxiety. So what I need most is to be able to rest against God’s breast like a child that is already weaned.

Psalm 131:2

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me.

Listening

Listening is a really important gift. That’s one of the things that a spiritual director does—listening to what is going on in a directee’s life and listening for where God is at work. A director doesn’t lay out a path for someone to follow; rather they ask questions that may elicit insights.

Listening is not only important; it is also neglected in our lives. We don’t listen to one another very well. We are often formulating what we will say next based on our own need. There are so many times that I begin to speak before I have really heard what Max is saying, and usually I get it wrong. Or even if I get it right, it cuts him off short.

I also have a hard time listening to what God might be saying in my life. Sunday night at our Lenten Disciplines group, I was asked some questions that were hard for me to consider. They are questions that make me look at what God purposes for me at this time. I can’t say clearly what that is but I do know that God will be with me in the purpose, in the discerning, and in the future.

Jeremiah 29:11

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

So Much Love

I am surrounded by so much love, and I am thankful even right now when I think about having to take my niece back to the airport in the morning. More than anything else I have learned during my treatment for breast cancer, and during Jeff’s illness and after his death, is that I am really not alone. No matter how much I may feel as though I am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, all I have to do is turn my head slightly to the right or left and see who is helping me hold it up. Even when I can’t see them, they are there: friends who check in with me, who ask deeper questions about how I’m doing, who accept when I want to talk and when I don’t. In all this I am truly blessed.

So when I think of the all the days and tasks that lay ahead and find them somewhat overwhelming, I want to remember that when Jesus invites me to share his yoke to make my burden light, he has given me sisters and brothers to be his face and his shoulders. As the rabbi said, “It is enough.”

Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.