When it was evening on that day, the disciples locked themselves away. The pain of Jesus’ leaving, and maybe the fear of what they’d risked by loving him, had reached a threshold. They didn’t know how to leave the isolation of that locked room. Hemingway says that “the world breaks everyone and then some become strong at the broken places.”
We have a congregant who shapes strong ministries. She stays up late planning for our sister church in Cuba and wakes up early to bake bread to share with strangers. Once, when I detected the resonance of grief from her and inquired, she shared the story of visiting her father as he lay dying.
She described the process she invented to find a way to survive his leaving. Day after day, in the same hospital parking space, she sat in her car with her hands on the steering wheel. Each time she inhaled she said “God’s peace”; each time she exhaled, “God’s presence.” She said she waited there until “something in me changed.” She was receiving the presence of the Holy Spirit to guard her breaking heart and to guide her practice of faith.
