Today I feel deeply comfortable and at peace in my silence, solitude, and simplicity. But why? I am saddened by the death of Elijah Cummings, and that a dear friend of fifty years in spending his last days at the hospice residence where I used to be the spiritual care counselor. Certainly not a time of joy, but definitely a time of gratitude for friendships and lives well lived.
Maybe, just maybe, we feel deeply comforted and peaceful when we unite with individuals who, having made a positive difference during their earthly years, are now putting an Amen to their lives. At times like this I am reminded that before death there was birth. Maybe, just maybe, my comfort also comes from the news of the joyful birth of a friend’s granddaughter. Birth and death are givens in the human journey; embracing and celebrating both, not as separate events, but as parts of something much bigger than we can explain, is what seems to brings profound comfort and peace.
Maybe, just maybe, we feel deeply comforted and peaceful when we unite with individuals who, having made a positive difference during their earthly years, are now putting an Amen to their lives. At times like this I am reminded that before death there was birth. Maybe, just maybe, my comfort also comes from the news of the joyful birth of a friend’s granddaughter. Birth and death are givens in the human journey; embracing and celebrating both, not as separate events, but as parts of something much bigger than we can explain, is what seems to brings profound comfort and peace.