Category Archives: grief

A Prayer on a Bad News Day

07 Tuesday Jan 2020

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God who fills the cracks in this world-
Today was a horrific news day.

As the world falls apart,
And our neighbors endure pain,
And hate spreads across our planet,
We lament, we weep, we cry for you.

Why have you forsaken us as the earth shakes?
Why have your children screamed words of hate?
Why have bombs and planes and so much else fallen?
Why do illnesses spread throughout our loved ones?

The news was heavy… no, suffocating.
Like the air from fires,
The dust from earthquakes,
The smoke from bombs,
And the fuel from planes.

So we look towards you in our confusion, our pain, our sadness.
We try to makes sense of things that won’t make sense anyway.
And we go to bed, shedding tears upon our pillows-

Hoping that the sun will fill the skies tomorrow,
That pain is alleviated,
That fires are extinguished,
And healing begins.

Amen.

Longest Night Homeless Persons’ Memorial Service

21 Saturday Dec 2019

Posted by in Current Events, grief, Holidays, National Day Prayers, Pop

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This was written for a service that will be used in Belleville, Illinois on December 21, 2019.  The term “homeless” is used to describe this day as seen as at NationalHomeless.org, my hope was to be sensitive to the people experiencing lack of housing, hoping to look at “people first.”  Feel free to adapt as needed with attribution.

Opening Prayer
Spirit of God who hovers around all of us-
Whether we abide on the highest peak or in the lowest valley,
Whether we abide in lengthening shadows or growing light-
Fill us with peace that comes from you.

Night has reached its pinnacle,
But the victory has not been delightful.
With it comes the chills of shadows-
The frigid loneliness of grief.

In this season when daytime’s gloom sneers at all of us,
Nighttime’s shadows are anything but cover.
Night has shed it’s duty to its people,
To the ones looking for its stars of hope. 

Scripture: Luke 2:1-7
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

Meditation
Burdened with worry and overwhelmed with joy, Jesus came into the world displaced.  Stories say he was a refugee – on the run to save his life. Later stories say that he spoke to his followers ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’ (Luke 9:58)  The one that people have called savior, teacher, friend, beloved found himself living an itinerant life for different reasons at various times.

Scripture: Psalm 91
1 You who live in the shelter of the Most High,
   who abide in the shadow of the Almighty,*
2 will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress;
   my God, in whom I trust.’
3 For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
   and from the deadly pestilence;
4 he will cover you with his pinions,
   and under his wings you will find refuge;
   his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
5 You will not fear the terror of the night,
   or the arrow that flies by day,
6 or the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
   or the destruction that wastes at noonday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
   ten thousand at your right hand,
   but it will not come near you.
8 You will only look with your eyes
   and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 Because you have made the Lord your refuge,*
   the Most High your dwelling-place,
10 no evil shall befall you,
   no scourge come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
   to guard you in all your ways.
12 On their hands they will bear you up,
   so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the adder,
   the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.
14 Those who love me, I will deliver;
   I will protect those who know my name.
15 When they call to me, I will answer them;
   I will be with them in trouble,
   I will rescue them and honour them.
16 With long life I will satisfy them,
   and show them my salvation.

Prayer
For the ones struggling with severe mental health
Who can’t see the world through a clear lens
And exist with a view of the world which is contorted-
A permanent place to stay is not in their path:
May we journey with them to find answers
And places of refuge in the nighttime of their lives.

For the ones with PTSD
Hurt by wars and the world:
May their spiritual wounds heal.
And in this meantime
As their life is lived under stars and clouds
May your light give them promise.

For LGBTQ children who find no place at home
Forsaken by family,
Deserted by friends:
May your light guide them to families of the soul.

For the ones struggling with addiction
Whose life shifted because of this health crisis
And no home fits their current shape of life:
May the power of your love strengthen them
And gift them the courage of newness and health.

For the ones who live in the system of eviction-
Surviving on couches,
Crouching in car seats,
Trying to sleep in spaces so small
And find a place of their own:
May our world work together to lead them to homes
And pathways of hope.

For ones living among violence
Who wonder if every tomorrow will be the end of their journeys:
May our communities find ways to find the refuge of peace they need.

For the ones who have perished by violence, from suicide
From overdoses, from the frigid chills of the air,
From the lack of medicine and lack of food.
For their loved ones who grieved long before their deaths
And will long after-
We pray for their everlasting peace.
We pray for their loved ones’ comfort will cover them during the longest night of the year.

May our systems change.
May our hearts transform.
May we repent and change the ways that have held others back.

We pray this to you, Divine Love, Spirit of Hope.
Amen.

Scripture: Psalm 139
1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
   you discern my thoughts from far away.
3 You search out my path and my lying down,
   and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
   O Lord, you know it completely.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
   and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
   it is so high that I cannot attain it.
7 Where can I go from your spirit?
   Or where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
   if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
9 If I take the wings of the morning
   and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
   and your right hand shall hold me fast.
11 If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
   and the light around me become night’,
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
   the night is as bright as the day,
   for darkness is as light to you.
13 For it was you who formed my inward parts;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
   Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
15   My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
   intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
   all the days that were formed for me,
   when none of them as yet existed.
17 How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
   How vast is the sum of them!
18 I try to count them—they are more than the sand;
   I come to the end*—I am still with you.

Meditation
They didn’t have the world’s refuge.
They didn’t have overhead protection.
Their blankets were torn.
Their coats light.
There was no refuge, we know this to be true.
And yet God was their refuge.
It’s hard to see this when they often had no cover
From violence, from the chills, from viruses, from medications.
Maybe it’s time for us to answer the call to be God’s refuge.
We may be the ones God’s commanding.
We may be the ones to sit with them in Sheol,
To follow them to the farthest places of the world,
And into the long night of the soul.

Remembering the Ones Lost
Please write the name of your loved one on the paper
And place it within the box.

Prayer
Loving God, we know you accompanied these loved ones to their shadow-filled corners.  No matter how far they could flee in this world, they could never flee from you.

We commend their spirit to you knowing they abide with you forever, knowing they live in your eternal refuge.  May their spirits be free from the pains of this earth, and may they see your everlasting light. Amen.

Benediction
As night recedes
And the days now lengthen,
May we share the light of hope with our neighbors,
May we abide in Divine peace,
May we walk with God, our Holy Sojourner,
And may we embrace the comfort of the Spirit
Who is forever in our company and forever our refuge.  
Go in the peace of the Divine Love.  Amen.

(c) Michelle L. Torigian – free to use and adapt with attribution

Scripture from Oremus Bible Browser – NRSV

A Prayer as We Remember Our Saints

01 Friday Nov 2019

Posted by in grief, Pop, Prayers

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God of Expanding Love,

Our week pauses as we remember the ones who walked with us here on earth. Our day stops as we cherish the memories of the people whose energy are forever embedded within our souls…

For the saints who let us call them grandparents. For our time together in the kitchen and wandering around garage sales, as we learned stitches from them and listened to their stories. May their talents challenge us to be our best selves.

For the saints who led us in classrooms. For their steadfast encouragement which still walks with us today. May their educating spirit uplift our souls until our last days.

For the saints who hit the clubs with us in our twenties and spent countless hours with us as we cried over broken hearts.  For the ones who sat on the phone with us as we shared our joys. May our friendship abide in eternity.

For the saints in the pews near us. For their faith which carried us when we couldn’t see the road ahead. May their songs continue to be remembered on Sunday mornings, in meeting spaces, and fellowship gatherings.

For the saints which called us their children. For their Divine-like love that comforted us when our fevers spiked or skinned knees. May we forever celebrate the peaceful moments of their love.

For our beloveds that no longer walk this earth with us. For the moments of laughter now embedded in our souls. May each tear shed and each tale told be a testament to our love shared.

If only we could hear your voice alive again…

If only we could engage in simple disagreements…

If only we could tell you how sorry we were for that one thing we did wrong in 1995…

Our hearts feel torn by the assault of grief. Our minds feel foggy from mourning’s arrival.

And yet here we are – weeks, months, years, decades removed from the last time we shared space with them. Here we are surviving. Here we are- carrying their love into tomorrow.

God of the broken-hearted, as we walk together into the future, allow us your peace which goes beyond understanding, a peace that will enrich our strength as we continue on our journeys. May the tools left behind by our saints empower us to build your kin-dom here on earth.

Amen.

Tears, Songs, and Hearing His Voice

26 Sunday May 2019

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This morning, I supercried at church – weeping like a small child.

The song was “Let There Be Peace on Earth.” Beyond the voices of the choir, I could hear the sound of my dad’s voice…

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me…

My dad would sing the song with every fiber of his being. His (probably) tenor voice would sing each syllable with intent. As a civics teacher, a Genocide survivor’s son, and a person who believed Christianity was an active faith, the song was probably the best representation of what he believed.

Let peace begin with me, let this be the moment now…

And so, when this song is sung as it was today with the choir, every piece of my being remembered him. I remembered his articulation of faith, of his voice singing a song that was a prayer in his heart. I remembered our time sitting next to one another in church as my faith grew next to his more matured, more articulated faith.

Songs connect us with people and the past. Of moments of joy and of losses. We know what we no longer have, but we know that we’ve been given the gift of something spectacular – the holiness of song, of love, of spirit.

To take each moment, and live each moment, in peace eternally-

Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.

 

One Good Friday

16 Tuesday Apr 2019

Posted by in grief, Lent Prayers, Life, Pop, Single in the Sanctuary

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Trigger warning: abuse

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The writing below occurred on a Good Friday over 20 years ago. I was verbally abused by a significant other during my mid-20’s. While he never physically abused me, I believe I would have left as soon as hits and shoves began. Instead, I wondered for months if what I was experiencing was verbal and emotional abuse, often convincing myself otherwise and telling myself that it would get better.

*****

From the rolling tears creeping down my cheeks
And the short breaths attempting to fill my lungs with air,
I inhale your disgust,
The grit spilling from your voice
Tastes like clouds of dust escaping from bottoms of sandals.

Our dinner the night before was a beautiful memory-
A time of quiet celebration…
But oh how the tone has changed quickly.

Even when my prayers begged for you not to betray me again, you walk back in.
Your hate-filled, dagger-edged sentiments
Came back to the room.
You weren’t finished.

Hit me, I think to myself.
I can finally come down off of the cross to which you nailed my spirit
And I can flee towards the lands of plenty
Where the God of hope and love has promised me
Milk, honey, vines drooping with grapes and nets overflowing with fish.

Hit me, I say to myself. I want to know where you stand
Instead of you driving the crown of thorns upon my sore spirit-
And removing it.  Then placing it and removing it
Again
And again
And again.

Your repeated accusations and condemnations pick apart my heart.

You might as well smack my face or whip me across the back
Or pierce my side with the dagger you kept in your bag
Because I cannot tell if I’ve done something wrong
Or if you’re thriving from my pain
And stirring
Stirring
Stirring the energy around us to kill the dreams leading me forward.

Your ‘love’ dizzies me
Like a ride on a chariot.
Your ‘love’ lifts me
Like a soldier lifting the Christ’s cross.
Your ‘love’ pierces me
Like nails driven into a body.
Such ecstasy is too much for my soul.
You’ve taken my breath – my will to breathe – away.

*****

I’m ready for my empty tomb and riding on clouds
Because my night in spiritual Sheol has captured all of my tears.

I will no longer allow you to cast your die upon my mind.
And I will shed your sins that you have showered upon my soul.

*****

As we wake for the new day
And you wash your hands of last night’s agony,
I barely feel human.

It’s Saturday.
We say goodbye.
The next time we meet face-to-face,
I’ve left the tomb.

 

Grieving the Saints

01 Thursday Nov 2018

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Death’s bite clenched my heart again this year. While the loss of my dad stings even almost 14 months after his death, I’ve had three friends pass in the last week.

The third friend died on November first: All Saints’ Day.

The thick fog of grief hovered as the new month was ushered into our lives. From the deaths of years ago to the crisp new blustery winds of grief’s winter, my heart feels deep sadness. Even when the people who die aren’t the closest of friends or relatives, often we feel off. Like a mild cold or minor infection in our bodies, something is not quite right. We aren’t crying for hours, but our minds are distracted.

This is grief too. Even when someone isn’t close, their loss impacts our world because our connection with one another is deep and eternal.

For all the saints, we give gratitude. For all the saints, we sing a bittersweet melody. For all the saints, we celebrate blissful memories.

 

Eden in the Wilderness (A Prayer for Our Tree of Life Siblings)

29 Monday Oct 2018

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“For the Lord will comfort Zion;
he will comfort all her waste places,
and will make her wilderness like Eden,
her desert like the garden of the Lord;
joy and gladness will be found in her,
thanksgiving and the voice of song.” – Isaiah 51:3

Your prophets told the people that Eden would be here.  Your prophets foretold comfort and joy, gardens and gladness.

And upon arrival, only wastelands stand.

So where is this flowering land?  Where is the spiritual destination foretold?  Where is the sanctuary where soul and body are safe and nourished?  They thought they had arrived…

And yet – only the raw wilderness remains.

Rather than a wilderness flourishing like Eden, this garden remains rocky.  Its sandy soil erodes with each bigoted downpour.

The diaspora people in their new orchards struggle for the fruits to blossom while deep, infiltrating weeds of privilege sprout and strangle.  The flowerbeds cannot abide in beauty while wayward shrubs obstruct the sun’s streams of healing and nurture.

We keep praying for comfort.  Comfort the people.  Comfort our neighbors.  But the warm winds are blocked by the biting breeze of bigotry.

We ask again for their comfort.  And, this time, we must ask for our complacency to end.  We must work for our inertia to end.

Divine Cultivator, even when the winds are harsh and the weeds unruly, let us be willing to abide together in orchards.  Let us be willing to sow together in new gardens, and may we be willing to uproot the crabgrass which overtakes healthy soil.

May Eden abide in the diaspora, and may we be willing to cultivate Eden with all your gardeners.

Amen.

 

© 2018   Rev. Michelle L. Torigian.  Permission is given to reproduce for worship or educational purposes.

The Dead Dads Club

16 Saturday Jun 2018

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Years ago, I came across a scene of Grey’s Anatomy in which Dr. George O’Malley had just lost his father. He was standing outside of the hospital when Dr. Cristina Yang approaches him. The two engage in the following conversation:

CRISTINA: “There’s a club. The Dead Dads Club. And you can’t be in it until you’re in it. You can try to understand, you can sympathize. But until you feel that loss… My dad died when I was nine. George, I’m really sorry you had to join the club.”
GEORGE: “I… I don’t know how to exist in a world where my dad doesn’t.”
CRISTINA: “Yeah, that never really changes.”

This scene rapidly came to mind on September 18, 2017. Early that morning, I became part of the Dead Dads Club. In a fog of exhaustion, I was thrown into a fraternity of humans wandering in grief.

It’s a permanent club with new members joining us every day. Since my induction, I’ve noticed more friends joining the club. Some joined after their dads perished following a long illness. Others were whisked into the club after a shocking death. I wish I could close the door on their membership. I wish I could delay their painful initiation. And yet, they joined us in the mournful ranks.

This year, many of us are enduring our first Fathers’ Day in this club. We scurry past the Fathers’ Day cards at the store. We try to forget what this Sunday is. We may be grateful that we don’t have to go to places like church where Father’s Day is all over the place. We hope we can make it ten minutes at a time throughout the day, knowing it will be a full year before the next one.

Ugh. Just ugh. I hate all of this.

Like George O’Malley said, I don’t know how to exist in a world where my dad isn’t. I still feel like he’s just in the other room when I talk to my mom. I still feel like I’ll catch up with him a little later. I still want to call him when I hear something happening on the news or when I remember something I learned in his Civics class.

But he’s no longer here. And I have to live with this for the remainder of my life here on earth. Part of my brain just can’t grasp this. I don’t think I ever will fully wrap my mind around the world without my father.

So here I am with my fellow “club” members. We all don’t want to be a part of this club. But we are glad that we don’t have to journey alone – not that we want others to have to go through this pain. If we all have to face the pain, at least we can be there for one another. I give thanks for the friends who reached out this week who happen to be enduring similar pain. I give thanks for the friends who sat and waited at the funeral home – just in case I needed them at any point. They are my cohort, and with them we will make it.

So for the day or whenever I need, I rely on God’s mercy and grace to allow what tears may need to fall. I give myself permission to reach out to others in this dreadful club. Because through God and neighbor, we may find some peace along the way.

Mother’s Day Free Spaces

11 Friday May 2018

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How many of our churches are Mother’s Day free spaces?

I ask this because many women do not want to come to church on Mother’s Day.  We don’t want people to talk about it, or reward moms or even just celebrate a roll that we are supposed to embrace.  There are many people in our churches who can’t have children or don’t want to or had awful parents.

They do not want to come to church on Sunday.

And yet, we look at this like a holy day.  While parents are holy people, Mother’s Day is not on the liturgical calendar.  Granted, the Law tells us to honor our mothers and fathers.  But scripture also gives us many instances when women were hurting because they couldn’t conceive.

Would Sarah, Hannah, Rachel, Rebekah, Tamar be welcome in our worship places this Sunday?  What about Elizabeth, mother of John?

Ideally, it would be wonderful to stop with the Mother’s Day gushing in sacred spaces – because women who want to worship but who also are triggered by this day won’t show up.  They aren’t welcome because they do not feel safe in the space.  Their emotions are not strong enough to carry them from the beginning to end of the service.

We may even give all of the women flowers or candy.
We may even pray for all women – including the ones hurting and enduring loss.
But they do not feel safe.

So on this Mother’s Day – even when our churches will go ahead with handing flowers and candy to women – please remember the following:

Not all women are mothers
Not all women are able to bear children.
Some moms in the room may have lost a baby.
Some have had miscarriages.
Some are facing fertility issues.
Some women have not had the opportunity to have children because life happened.
Some do not want to have them.
Some people in the room have had traumatic relationship with their moms.
Some people lost their mom in the past year and didn’t realize how this day in church would be triggering to them.
Some people have two dads or never had a mom because of family structures.  A day like this brings awkwardness – even if we honor the fathers a month later.
Some women came to church just to worship and not focus on this.

So acknowledge this day if you must – but do so in a way that is inclusive in nature.  Honor all women because it takes a village to raise children.  Honor families who have lost mothers in the past year.  Ask families who hurt on this day how can we make worship more welcoming of them.  If you have two services maybe keep one Mother’s Day-free.

It’s our job to make sure to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.  Our call is to ensure those who hurt are comforted, those who celebrate feel joyful and to challenge preconceived notions and stereotypes when the opportunity arises.

And sometimes all of that happens on Mother’s Day.

See my other stories regarding grief on Mother’s Day:
Between Childless and Childfree
Affirming All Women in Church on Mother’s Day
When Cheesecake is More Than Cheesecake
The Plans We Make

 

 

A Prayer When Prayers Are Not Enough

16 Friday Feb 2018

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“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you?”

James 2:14 (NRSV)

Holy One who created us to pray when life makes no sense, or when we are grateful, or when we are in need…

Let’s face it- we use our prayers as a way to stay in safe spaces. It’s easy to pray and send our thoughts to people who hurt. It’s simple to pray that an issue will go away.

And yet day after day, these thoughts and prayers are not enough. Issues continue to stack up. People are dying.

So today we pray that we have enough courage not only to pray with our mouths and minds and hearts, but also with our hands and voices and feet. It’s time for us to stop half-praying and time for us to fully pray with our whole selves. We know you are calling us to action.

Give us the clarity needed to complete your work effectively. And give us peace as we work to bring forth your Kin-dom to earth.

Amen.