Moments weaving together. . .
I’m sitting shiva with my family. We’re gathered together in the house of dear family, sharing stories, talking, chatting, and exploring. The custom as I know it is that we are here with one another to support each other and also to provide a place where friends and family may stop by to pay their respect.
A moment: My cell phone rings. It is the mother of my godson. She is calling to share a lovely story with me. Three weeks ago when we were in Atlanta celebrating my godson’s 3rd birthday, he and I had a conversation about how lucky we are to be god-friends. Today, out of the blue, Ethan runs up to his mom and grandmother and announces, “I have a god-friend!”
Another moment nearby: The house phone rings. It is our cousin who lives in Israel. I met and had a lovely visit with her when I was in Israel two and half years ago. We haven’t spoken since then. She sends her love and regards to the family. I ask how she is. She shares that she is living in post-war, things are okay, thank god everyone is safe, and it’s a difficult time here… and all over the world. I don’t know her well, but I hear what sounds to me like a strain in her voice. My being tries to take in how is it to be living in post-war. She says she imagines there is even craziness in Seattle… but it’s so different. She sends her love to the rest of the family. I assure her that “I’m a good one to have pass on love.”
As the moments weave, I wonder about being god-friends, about connecting through and sharing love, and about how this relates to and shows up within all the pain and suffering in the world.
The extra words aren’t present for the sensation moving through me… the reverence for life and love glows ever strong.