From your Deacon

Jan 26, 2023

Dear Congregation,

I’ve always been someone who can remember their dreams.  Sometimes disturbing for sure, but often comforting, and usually ranging from strange to hilarious.  I can wake up laughing or crying.  It’s a blessing and a curse.

My sister, Kathryn, died six months ago and I’ve had a few dreams where she’s made an appearance.  One of her children gets jealous when I tell her of these dreams as she would like to see her mother in one.  I assure her it will happen eventually and I hope I’m right.

This Sunday we will hear Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and the Beatitude that I’m a bit focused on currently is “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”  As I wait for this “comfort” to be bestowed upon me (and as I attempt, mostly unsuccessfully, to comfort others), it occurs to me that perhaps waiting for it is not the way; maybe I need to get that going.

Kathryn had a tradition her kids and I would always laugh about. For birthdays, she would always (and I mean always) get that smallest sized (and I mean smallest) Carvel birthday cake.  And it was like the loaves and fishes, regardless of how many people were at the birthday celebration, everyone got a piece.  Her birthday is Sunday, January 29.  I’ve suggested to her children and grandchildren that we all get our own little Carvel cake on Sunday (we’re scattered all over the country) and I’ll set up a Zoom call and we can have a birthday thing together.  Some are with me on this and some not so much.  For some, it’s simply too much like a celebration for right now.

I try to be a “celebrate the life” rather than a “mourn the death” gal but sometimes I don’t quite get there, and I realize everyone arrives at the “celebrate the life” phase on their own timetable.  But I want to suggest that we can’t wait for it but must, at least, give it a try.

And maybe one more Beatitude – “Blessed are the Celebrators of Life, for they will find peace in their hearts”.

For all of you who mourn, I encourage you to just try to move, however slowly, to a place of thanksgiving and celebration of life.  And I’ll let you know how that Carvel cake thing works out.

Deacon Denise