May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. – Psalm 19:14.
For over 30 years I started each Sunday morning sermon with this prayer from the Psalmist. This past Sunday I spent the day hiking up the Kadunce River and it was truly Church. I was surrounded by beauty, the gurgling of water under the ice on which I walked and on each side of me the steep rock face walls carved by the river. I was redeemed. There was wholeness for a moment as I slowly made my way in wonder. As I walked, I found myself speaking the words of Julian of Norwich, “All Shall be well, all shall be well, all manner of things shall be well.”
I first learned Julian’s prayer from Joann Mork, a chaplain and member of my former congregation. Joann taught us so many songs in addition to prayers. When we first got our new hymnals she started a hymn of the month initiative. Each month under her leadership the congregation would learn one new hymn. So many beautiful songs then became part of our repertoire.
Joann also loved rocks. She often gave rocks to friends and families, and the rocks came with stories. I often hold one of the rocks she gave me – an ancestor rock. Its smooth red roundness curves to resemble a mother holding a child. I hold it and pray, “All shall be well . . . “
Joann died this Fall and with Covid- 19 restrictions her family improvised one of the most beautiful memorial moments I have ever been part of. We gathered outside at their family cabin among the trees and a light snow. We began with a poem read by her good friend Beth who had held Joann on her last day alive. And then people brought rocks and told stories about Joann as they placed their rocks in a Cairn, a marker pointing her way home.. Throughout the time together we sang. We sang the songs she taught us, “This pretty planet” and “In the bulb there is a flower”. The fire burned and the snow fell silently. It was completely magical like Narnia especially because her four-year-old granddaughter danced among us. Lucy danced in her winter jacket, snow pants and lion cap which was trimmed with yellow fake fur. Yes, Spirit flickered and sang and danced among our hearts.
I close with a portion of the prayer I offered that afternoon, “ Holy One, we release Joann back to you this day with songs and stories, stones and ash. They remind us that we too came out of the stars and earth, stardust and mud, extraordinary and mundane. O Lord you are our Rock and our Redeemer.”
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