
Today Megan and I mark our 16th wedding anniversary. A special weekend in the city was on the agenda. But this celebration will need to be delayed as I’m at the airport, soon to fly to Newcastle. My dad’s health has deteriorated quickly, and he’s entered into palliative care.
I sit with many different emotions this evening as I think of my dad and his imminent passing. I’m also reminded of the continuing journey I’m on when it comes to learning to hold things lightly in life. We all know about curve balls. A sudden phone call. An unexpected email. A left-field diagnosis. News of an accident. An unplanned HR meeting. Something out of the blue. A very different weekend to what you envisaged. Realising that you will soon be without both your parents.
Uncertainty and unpredictably are very much a part of life. Just as loss and death are. As well as love, joy, anniversaries and plans delayed.
Tonight, I’m reminded of the choices before me. Panic or peace. Fear or faith. Focusing on what I can control or getting overwhelmed by what I can’t. Dealing with unmet expectations before they turn to self-pity. Letting go of things that don’t really matter – like cancelled bookings – and staying attuned to things that do – like how others in my family are travelling tonight. And owning how I genuinely feel right now – in this moment – as I hope that my dad is still alive by the time I get to the hospital tonight. But knowing I can’t control that, and most of all, wanting my beautiful dad to be free of pain and at rest!
And amid all of that, I sit here so thankful for @megan and yet knowing that this weekend, like so many others, she will now be running solo with all the demands of our family life, rather than what I hoped she would experience on this anniversary weekend. Yes, life is full of moments just like this. Highs and lows. Joys and sorrows. Certainties and uncertainties – all intertwined in the fabric of our days.
Earlier this week, on the Lectio 365 app, I read again this wonderful invitation from Jesus: “Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light!”
This evening, I catch my breath. And I open my hands and I take hold of Jesus’ words afresh … “my burden is light … “my burden is light” … “light”, “light”, “light”. So often in the heaviness and messiness of life what we need most is lightness.
Taking hold of Jesus’ presence and peace is the only way I’ve discovered that I can walk lightly.
And yet for me, that’s a life-long learning process as I love schedules, lists, plans and can be too prone to hold on to expectations of what the day should bring. I am learning more and more the importance of embracing disruption, uncertainty and surprise.
Tonight, I’m not in control. Tonight, I’m cherishing my relationship with my dad and living with the tension of both looking forward to seeing him soon and knowing he won’t be here soon.
May he rest lightly tonight! May he know he is deeply loved.