It Is Seasonal

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven...
Ecclesiastes 3:1

The other day, I was out for my walk, going along one of my favorite routes. This route is alongside a pretty major road in town, and it leads to a major intersection. As I approached this intersection, I noticed a bunch of birds up on the wires above the intersection. As I got to the intersection, I found myself walking on their shit.

This shit, like so much other shit, is seasonal.

These birds only sit up on these wires in the Fall. I guess the winds are just right and bring those yummy bugs right to them, or something, but for whatever reason, there are the birds, up high on the wires, every Fall. And their shit lands below.

I began to think about the seasonal shit and how the seasons change in our lives. Some seasons are beautiful, wonderful, and full of all kinds of love and peace and harmony. And some seasons are covered in shit.

Notice I said they are "covered in shit" - not that they actually are shit. There's a huge difference. Sometimes, the beauty and wonder and love are still there, but they get encrusted, much like the sidewalks under the birds on the wires. Some seasons in our lives, we have to look through the shit in order to find the beauty or wonder or love underneath.

This is not a fun task, friends. It's icky and hard and takes some work and effort - and isn't it just easier to walk a different route for a while, avoiding the shit altogether? Well, of course it's easier. But where on earth did we ever get the idea that easier is always better?!

Sometimes easier is better. Easier is better when we are trying to be efficient, for instance. But easier doesn't always mean that we will learn as much as when something is difficult. Easier doesn't always mean that we will grow as strong as when something is difficult. Difficulty can be really shitty, but it is in difficulty that we learn how to be creative, how to persevere, how to find hope. It is in difficulty that we discover that we are stronger than we ever imagined. It is in difficulty that we learn to trust God.

When I was on internship, I had a parishioner - a retired pastor - who kept goats. One day, he and his wife had us over for lunch. He then invited me to take a stroll out in the goats' area - specifically, to walk in a circle in the area where all the goats would shit. And then he looked at me and said, "Sometimes, you're gonna have to walk through shit, and I wanted you to have some first hand experience."

How I wish every season was free of shit. But shit happens. Strap on some good shoes, and crunch on through. God is with you.

Here's Some Advice...

I look for advice when I feel myself sinking - I seek it out. When my mom was dying, and then after she died, I read a LOT online in cancer support forums and in books about prayer during grief (ironically enough, books I inherited from Mom's bookshelves). I read hymns. I read Luther and the Bible and the Creeds.

Mostly, though, I just leaned. I leaned heavily on those around me. I leaned into writing about the pain and how my faith was struggling to survive. I leaned into food - LOTS of food. I eventually leaned back into prayer as I somehow figured out how to trust God again.

Many who knew me then didn't try to offer advice on how to grieve. They know I've had lots of loss in my life and so grief is something that feels almost like that old friend that I don't want to see ever again - and yet - there it is, showing its face again. Many who knew me then were simply present - they simply walked with me: holding me when I cried, listening when I screamed, offering prayers beyond number and comfort beyond measure.

It was powerful.

So, now I have diabetes, and suddenly, it feels like many in my life are Experts. Advice comes from every direction: well-meaning ones - all sharing what they either know to be true from their own experience (including those with diabetes themselves), or what they've read about diabetes in some hack magazine, or what their cousin Joe's experience with diabetes was in 1947, and everything. in. between.

People. I love you. Notice the words "well-meaning" above. Please notice those words. I know you mean well. 

But really, I've been overweight since I was ten years old. I've been on and off diets, eating plans, and exercise plans for many years of my life. There's an old saying: "I've lost hundreds of pounds in my life!" I have. Some have come back. Others have stayed away. But really, I know what it takes.

And this struggle - just like someone's grief - is not one you will be able to fix for me. It isn't one you'll be able to advise away, like some kind of problem at work or an issue with a boyfriend. It's one I must simply accept, and then care for in the best ways I know how.

I do not walk alone. I absolutely do not. And what has been most helpful in the almost-two-months since my diagnosis is the presence of those who simply have listened and prayed. Those who have laughed with me, or have cried with me. Those who have asked questions, in order to learn how to be helpful. Those who have offered loving words and support.

So, here's some advice for you...

Just listen.

Just be there.

Laugh or cry with me.

Ask questions, if you have them.

Offer answers or advice when I ask.

Pray for me.

Love me.

And loving me may mean watching me make some mistakes. Loving me may mean that I'm going to do some things that don't seem right in your eyes. Loving me may take more energy than simply giving me advice.

But love me anyway.

Because - here's the thing:

I. love. you.