This running thing is hard. I'm alternating running and walking right now, and I guess I think I should be able to run more than I can, or do. I'm having a hard time figuring out how much of it is mental, and how much is physical. But today I had a neat motivator while I was on the treadmill (sweating my BUTT off, I might add. I should have taken a picture of my t-shirt after that workout!)
I imagined, when things were really tough, that my dad was in front of me, running ahead, looking back and waving to me to catch up. It really helped. It also made me feel a bit looney-toons, but I don't know why. I would tell anyone else to go ahead and utilize that visualization, if it brought comfort, if it was motivational, if it felt like a connection.
I wonder sometimes as a pastor how much "mystical" stuff I should bring into my sharing about grief. I haven't really had anything significant (I mean, no visions, no voice from the sky, nothing undeniably HIM), but I have also had sensations of comfort and connection, some interesting dreams (I will try to post about the most significant one tomorrow), sightings of SO many butterflies and birds (especially cardinals...but maybe that's just the neighborhood), feelings of transcendent peace and love that are important parts of this experience for me.
I am grateful for my faith and for the openness that it gives me to any communication with the Spirit, whether it is specifically my father or a greater gift from God in general...if you're out there reading this, have you had any interesting, affirming encounters with those you love who've died? Or any other mystical encounters? Do share!
1 comment:
Yes--that's the short answer.
My dad when I was not quite 10; it'll be 25 years this summer.
I was blessed to be in his room with him when he died; at that time, I saw his parents and his brother with us in the room. They had been dead 7 and 5 years respectively.
In the first year or so after he died, I saw my dad twice--just saw him for a second, just enough time to blink, but there was certainly a sense of comfort because they were times I needed it.
I have a blog post (http://homeforwords.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-daddy-and-my-baby-girl.html -- sorry don't recall how to link!) about feeling like my dad sent me a message of love to me with the birth of my first child.
And my youngest--oh man, she looks so much like my dad--some of her expressions I cannot get over. It's like my dad is smiling at me, grinning a goofy grin, a mischievious twinkle in his eye.
Plus--can't think if I've blogged it, but I have an incredible story of an experience of God touching me and wiping my tears with the wind/clouds.
Clearly, you've hit a nerve with me! I'm not sure I've talked much about seeing my dad in the year after his death, but the rest I've openly talked about. Some in sermons; some just with individuals.
I too am grateful for my faith and the ways that God can move in my life!
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