Category Archives: grief

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.

 

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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

Posted by in Current Events, grief, Pop, Prayers, Social Justice

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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

Posted by in Church Life, Current Events, grief, Holidays, Pop, Single in the Sanctuary

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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

Posted by in Current Events, grief, Lent Prayers, Life, Pop, Social Justice

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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.

Remembering the Newly Single – Single in the Sanctuary

14 Wednesday Feb 2018

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It occurred to me a couple of days ago that this would be the first Valentine’s Day without my dad.  While that makes little impact on my life, it does, however mean that my mom is without a partner for the first time in about 48 years.

I’m not exactly sure how my mom is feeling today, nor do I want to assume those feelings or explore what traditions she may be missing.  But since it’s been less than six months since the death of my dad, a day like Valentine’s Day has the potential to stir up feelings in people who have recently lost their significant other.

And she is not alone in this life transition.

In our groups of friends as well as the people in our congregations, there are always people changing relationship status – and sometimes not for the better.  Our neighbors are experiencing breakups, divorces and losing spouses to death.  When a relationship has made a huge impact on a life (whether the team was married or not), there remains a large hole in the lives of those who are grieving.  Valentine’s Day can be another sharp and blazing reminder to this recent loss.

With all of this being said, it’s also our job as the Body of Christ to be present in the ashes of people who have been single for years – especially friends who do not enjoy their singlehood status.  Every year when Valentine’s Day rolls around, the aches of singlehood intensify, leaving them to wonder what is next.

Whether someone has recently lost someone or has been single for years, there is one less person to bring them flowers, candy or a nice fancy dinner.

So this is the challenge to the church: how will we be there for our single siblings in faith today?  How can we recognize that new losses could be extremely uncomfortable on a day like Valentine’s Day?  How can we deliver to them a bit of love – especially when delivery trucks will not be coming by their homes today?

A Prayer for the Newly Single on Valentine’s Day
Divine One whose son showed us how to love,
On this day filled with sparkles and glitter,
Help us to remember our siblings who sit in the ashes of relationships.
May those of us in romantic bliss exit our bubbles for a little while
To show love to those abiding solo among us.
May their hearts feel full and complete today.
May they see a love that fulfills them.
If their hearts yearn for their own partners,
May they find the one who will love them as they are
And may their future Valentine’s Days be ones of joy.
Amen.

 

 

First Birthday Gone

07 Wednesday Feb 2018

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Today’s the first time we exist in a February 7 world without my dad in it. And as many of you are well too familiar, this is bizarre.

Most years, I would try to call my dad at midnight. Of course, this would be 11pm CST, a point that wouldn’t matter to him.

Last night, there was no one I could call to wish those birthday greetings.

Dad was born on the seventh day in February in the seventh hour. He used to indicate how the number sevens were lucky for him.

Today would have been his 77th birthday. So on this seventh day of February in which my dad would have been 77, make this world a stronger place. Tell someone what a fantastic job they are doing. Call you congressional leaders to speak your needs and the needs of those marginalized. Watch the news, register to vote, learn the faces of our congressional leaders, or just be a good human today. That’s what Vincent Torigian would want for his birthday.

And Dad, as you abide on that side of heaven, may you feel the love that all of us are sending you on your birthday. Miss you so much.

A Prayer for Goodness and Mercy

24 Wednesday Jan 2018

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Where is that “Goodness and Mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,” God? It feels like accidents and overworking and grieving and illness are trailing me as I walk along your holy path.

How do I go forward when all I know right now is pain? Hope shrivels as aches of the soul grow. Will the next turn be more losses, or complications, or even more pain?

And yet I go forward, taking the specks of hope kept safely deep within my soul, waiting for the right place to plant these tiny seeds. For Goodness and Mercy shall pursue me even into the depths of life.

And I will dwell on your path forever, Holy One.

Amen.