REFLECTIONS

REFLECTIONS

In the stillness of this night, I collect my thoughts about life. Even in the crappiest moments of my life, I have to admit, I am blessed. Even when I am stressed, anxious, depressed or my spirit is empty, I am reminded that someone else is experiencing something far worse, and would be happy to trade places with me.

The last few months have been, in many ways, a precious gift to me. I’ve learned so much about myself, the direction I want to go and I’ve caught glimpses of a future filled with hope. I’ve lost many things, but in doing so, I’ve gained so much along the way. It’s really amazing to look at how the closing of a window truly does open doors.

What I have learned in the last nearly three months is that friendships are special and that sometimes you just have to trust that God is doing the right thing and removing you from a situation. I’ve learned that just because someone says they love you, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they do, and that worry, like rocking in a rocking chair, is an activity that will give you something to do, but won’t really get you anywhere. I’ve learned that finding peace with yourself is the greatest gift you can ever receive.

Today I had a very simplistic day. I met Gray and Trent for lunch, and then did something I’ve thought of doing for a long time, but just never took the time. I drove to Elmwood Cemetery and just took a little walk around. It was an absolutely beautiful day and a great day to spend in one of the most serene locations in Birmingham. Of course, I looked for Coach Paul “Bear” Bryant’s grave while I was there, but did not find it—I guess that will give me a reason to go back and walk around Block 30 again. I stopped by and visited the grave of Parker’s grandmother. She died the day we moved in together, perfectly timed...the movers had done their job, Parker’s father had helped me get my last load of items from my apartment and had returned home where Parker’s brother and soon to be sister-in-law were in town, then we got the call that she had died and quickly drove to the assisted living facility to join the rest of the family there. It was simple, peaceful and beautiful. It may have been at that moment, that I truly felt I was a part of Parker’s family. It’s one of my most precious memories, though sad for the family, I recall the tremendous sense of relief that she was no longer living in pain, nor was she living in a world she had trouble recognizing because of her battle with Alzheimer’s Disease. So, I stopped by just to say hello to her today and to thank her for her family, who will always be so dear to me.

After leaving the cemetery, I returned home and took care of things around the house before heading out to a service to commemorate the Feast of the Ascension at the Episcopal Church. The glorious music and words of the homily were such necessary experiences for me. As I told Christopher, who sings in the choir, I truly had a religious experience. That may sound odd, since I go to church every week. However, when one is serving as a minister, I’ve found that it’s often that one is not being ministered to. I often block out the homily entirely and am just waiting for my next cue to return to the piano or organ. It was a refreshing experience.

Here’s my confession: One might argue that I haven’t used my time wisely, that I’ve not worked as hard as I should have during this interim period of my life, but the lessons I’ve learned, the love I’ve experienced, and the peace I have today all cause me to believe that I have done everything according to plan. I have no doubt that things are going to work out for me. I also have no doubt that the time I’ve been given to take an inventory of my life, to look at where I want my life to go, and having the opportunity to formulate a plan are priceless. The time I’ve been able to spend working on music has been a healing process, but has also helped me to continue to grow and add to my repertoire. My hope is that I’ll be able to parlay the musical skills someone into a money-making venture in the near future. Until then, I am trusting with faith that all will be well. I know that there’s brighter tomorrow, and that my prayers will be answered. I know that I have to put legs on my prayers, and I am; but I also know that I am not to worry. It’s all under control, and the plan will be revealed in due time. Today’s struggles, God Willing, will be replaced by more than I can dare imagine.