Ebenezer: A Stone In My Pocket

Ten of us were at the Women’s Grief Gathering at Lynn Haven UMC today. This was our 4th monthly meeting. We explored ways in which we think about the presence of our grief with us through the lens of metaphors….. similar to the ways in which the Bible talks about God’s Presence, the Kingdom of God, being with us in metaphors, too, as a house built on a solid foundation, a plowed field prepared for planting, a vine pruned and bearing fruit, a tree planted by a river…..
The essay I shared was adapted for our particular group from one by a blogger named Jessica, who had first written it in 2015 after the death of a child.  It likened living with grief to carrying a stone in one’s pocket…. detailing rich imagery and parallels. We shared other metaphors with one another from our own experiences that make our grief bearable, even comforting. And shared some really practical aids for self-care and getting through the hard times. What a sweet fellowship… and yes, there were both tears and laughter!
The next Women’s Grief Gathering is Saturday, March 19 at 10:00 am at Lynn Haven UMC.

The stone

By Jessica

“Sharing our hearts puts us in touch with so many others who grieve. When we hear their stories and the pain running in between and on top of their words we are reminded of how far we’ve come and how close we are to still being right there in the full throes of our own grief.

The best way I can describe grieving as time goes by is to say it’s similar to carrying a stone in your pocket.

When you walk, the stone brushes against your skin. You feel it the slight weight of it. You always feel it. And depending on the way you stand or the way your body moves, the smooth edges might barely graze your body.

Sometimes you lean the wrong way or you turn too quickly and a sharp edge pokes you. Your eyes water and you rub your wound but you have to keep going because not everyone knows about your stone or if they do, they don’t realize it can still bring this much pain.

There are days you are simply happy now, smiling comes easy and you laugh without thinking. You slap your leg during that laughter and you feel your stone and aren’t sure whether you should be laughing still. The stone still hurts.

Once in a while you can’t take your hand off that stone. You run it over your fingers and roll it in your palm and are so preoccupied by it’s weight, you forget things like your car keys and home address. You try to leave it alone but you just can’t. You want to take a nap but it’s been so many years since you’ve called in, excusing yourself from work or other obligations because of feeling “sad” you’re not sure anyone would understand anymore or if they ever did.

But most days you can take your hand in and out of your pocket, feel your stone and even smile at its unwavering presence. You’ve accepted this stone as your own, crossing your hands over it, saying “mine” as children do.

You rest more peacefully than you once did, you’ve learned to move forward the best you can. Some days you want to show the world what a beautiful memory you’re holding. But most days you twirl it through your fingers, smile and look to the sky. You squeeze your hands together and hope you are living in a way that honors the missing piece you carry, until you are whole again.”

 

I had laid out various small stones of different colors and shapes along the center of the table where we met and had scattered in some small chocolate candies, too.  There was the perennial tissue box on the table, as well.  Women were invited to take several of the stones……. worn-smooth river stones or others with angles and points.  Put them in a small pouch in one’s purse, or line them up on a shelf.  Use them to take a small inventory from time to time of how your stone is being present to you.

 

As God would have it, I had gotten a new book by Edward T Welch, who writes with the Christian Counseling Education Foundation.  Hie newest book is “A Small Book About a Big Problem: Meditations on Anger, Patience, and Peace.”  I picked it up on the way out the door and, as my sister drove us to the church I opened it to the back and read the first thing I saw, which was this:

Day 48   Fifteen Signs of Growth

“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6

“Sometimes change might seem as slow as when wind and rain erode solid granite, but the Spirit of God does change us.  Just look carefully.  Look for small steps in your battle…. rather than perfection.  Ask a person close to you if they have noticed any gorwth and change.  Your willingness to ask someone, by itself, is evidence of spiritual power at work.

This work is important.  If you put your hand to the plow and see no return for your work, you will be very tempted to stop working.  Bt when you notice some fruit – when you have evidence that the Spirit of power is at work in you – you become even more zealous to be shaped like Jesus.”

 

Yes, I think God was with all of us on the same page today.  I think I knew it yesterday when it suddenly popped into my head to go buy a small round box of rocks at Michael’s and go look for that essay again that had just come across my desk the day before, with Edward Welch’s newly received book on the top of my stack of “to be read” books….

As I sit here tonight reflecting on the day, I recall a stone that God brought to Bill and me after he redeemed and restored our marriage…. a large stone that we called our eben ezer……. Our stone of remembrance.  A huge stone, it has been hauled around now to its third resting place in front of yet another of our homes, this townhouse where I now live.  So much of my home is marked by memories, and precious ones at that. When my Daddy was working hard at recovering from a hemorrhagic stroke 20 or so years ago, I asked him one day what he was pondering as he lay in bed.. “Precious memories,” Daddy replied. “Memories of what, Daddy?”  “My children, he said.”  Yes, indeed, thoughts of loved ones are precious memories.