*A poem/reflection written in prayer on the challenge someone I know currently faces battling cancer.
There is nothing fair About any of this, Of children That of which we are Left to fend for themselves, There is nothing fair about there being An unknown That is always shrouded in mystery; Without answers I can try to comfort you And try I will, I ask that you only take from it what you need, Here is what I believe: There is nothing “fair” About the suffering you endure And it is not an act of spite, By the Divine; The Divine —A spirit so grand and yet still seeing your lifetime in its uniqueness For the first time; Spirit, an entity timeless And endless Thus, always in flux; Knows even metamorphoses involve mutation, At levels, we can not perceive; The cosmos are so great and complex, and yet their workings are also part of and shaped by the microscopic; Spirit may stir the workings, Yet pain is but A byproduct, unintended, This we may never rightly understand; Breathe, dear one, It is not fair, Nor is it your fault, In this moment, I can do nothing to absolve your hurting, But I can be present With you, for you, Holding you in this temporal comfort of embrace, I can also say nothing, For words are meaningless, Being explained to one in a crucible; As much as I can I hold your pain In my heart In exchange with my love, Love that is also an unending Blessed gift of the Divine, always, And for all;
In the busyness of life in the past few months I have let this blog take a backseat to ministry, and life in general. On May 23rd I led my last service for the 2020-21 academic year, at the
congregation in Castine. I will return in the fall, to intern at the 3 church collaborative.
This last service was put together in a mad dash of things happening, and yet I feel it is one of my favorites. It was created for the May theme of “story”. The sermon was entitled “Tell Your Story”, and implored listeners to take an active role in storytelling, for fear the loss of histories over time. I was very satisfied with the service, was complemented and could see the evidence of my growth.
I am embarking now in taking CPE (clinical Pastoral education) for c the summer. My original program was canceled due to low enrollment, so I’m not doing an online based program that I was fortunate to have one of my fellow seminarians recommend. Alas, I still need to figure out where I’m going to get my pastoral hours. I’m working with the Castine church, but am also looking in to local hospices and nursing homes.
In regard to Castine, I was recently confronted with a huge moment in the lives of our congregants. One of the young church leaders suddenly took I’ll and was put on life support. Her slow passing is a huge pill to swallow. I was tasked with seeing to the family the evening she took ill, as the minister was out of state. There was little I could do, and due to Covid restrictions I was unable to be the re for them. I cried in the car after I dressed in my clergy attire waiting on what to do. My supervising minister had advised me when we spoke, “steely yourself”. I’m good at shutting off my emotions when confronted by extreme tragedy, but it is still necessary to release. I did that in the car, then did as she had advised.
I begin CPE class this evening. While I’m not anxious to start another class, I’m in need of processes everything occurring. I’m grateful for the surrounding of my cohort that I have reviewed to help me figure out what my role is and to be held as well.
Autumn. Fall scene. Beautiful Autumnal park. Beauty nature scene. Autumn landscape, Trees and Leaves, foggy forest in Sunlight Rays
The days have become shorter, with darkness descending sooner and a chill now in the air. Summer days have come to a close, leaves now glow orange, red, and yellow like a seasonal flame. This shift in days, shift in temperature marks a shift in the cycle of the year. All these changes note a time when the veil between this world and the hereafter is the thinnest, this 31st of October. Samhain, as it is called marks the Pagan celebration of the time when harvest has been collected and those departed are with us closer than ever, again.
Samhain, celebrated generically in the US as Halloween, has always been my favorite holiday of the year. Even as a child it was not about the candy, or the games, but rather about a certain distinct feel in the air. This year Samhain comes with much more solemnity than in previous years, for me. This summer my grandma, Verna Hoffman, passed away unexpectedly. While this is not the first person whom I have lost, it is the closest relation to whom I have had to say goodbye. My grandmother is now among the company of other departed relations, who I love and miss, like my great Aunt Barb. Both women were strong, beloved individuals, with colorful and formidable personalities. Their corporeal presence may be missing, but now, especially as felt on this day, their spirits dwell close, and their memories are renewed.
My great Aunt Barb was a loving woman, full of life and commitment to family. An amazing cook, I recall the fragrant smell of her home, and the open motherly presence that she bestowed. Most of my memories of her were as a small child, but they lasted. I came to know later that her love was also an acceptance of me and my biracial family, when few in our small town did. I dreamt about her once when I was in college. The dream was out of the ordinary for me, but was one of comfort that brought forth warm memories of my childhood in her company. Days later, a call from my mother informed me that Aunt Barb had died, at home in her bed. She was the first close relation that I had known to pass away, and thus introduced me to death. Her spirit remained a figure in my life. She is with me.
My grandma, Verna, was really a second mother to me. She left this world tragically as this Summer eclipsed. My memory of her is strong, both from the newness of her passing, and the powerful impression she made on my life. In early childhood my family resided in her home, and I came to know her care and comfort. She was a petite woman, a nurse by trade, and she brought this ethic of care and nurturing to every aspect of her life. In her memory I think of yellow citrine, warm sweaters, and the comforting aroma of dove cooling cream, and fill bodied hugs. Her imprint on me is present in most every moment of my life, from her influence on my spiritually, to how I clothe my person. She is with me.
As Samhain draws near I am comforted in the thought that we are closer to those in their celestial presence. When I am reminded of their memory I will know it is not just from fleeting thought, but from their presence by me.
This Samahain, may you feel the presence of those loved, but gone, brought nearer; spirits of those missed come close, and may you be nurtured and comforted by their memory and presence this day. They are with you.
Rev. Vanessa Titang 