To Live In Hearts

One of the benefits of being too cheap to pay for cable or satellite for television is the option of watch entire seasons of series that have already run. Currently that means going back to watch Army Wives from the very first episode. Watching the episodes back to back eliminates so much of the "wait" process built into the writing without lessening the impact of the drama. Working through the first season the story lines, with a bit of tweaking to become Afghanistan instead of Iraq, etc. could be drawing from our headlines today.

In many ways, watching the series again brings memories of watching it when it first ran. Because of work travel obligation I saw the original run of this season in my childhood home, watching with my mother. The storylines opened many a conversation on the lives of the military, their families, what they were going through, PTSD, the justice of war, and on and on in similar lines. We didn't always agree, but the conversations sparked the examination of long held opinions, beliefs, spiritual concepts--mom wondered how she could have raised such a passivist.

Watching it all again sparked memories of those discussions and at times it almost felt as if mom were watching it with me again. As the season drew to its conclusion the raw emotions of a bomb blast just off of the Army post brought tears pouring from me--again. Memories of watching it with mom, of reaching out to hold one another's hands and ultimately moving to sit together; the power of love and need found me turning to her again--aching for her warmth and comfort. This time however, she was no longer with me in body, nor ever will be again.

Quickly watching the beginning of the next season, I knew the outcome--who in the series had died--who had survived--and was drawn anew to their struggle, pain, and anguish. One line in particular caught my attention . . . and heart: "to live in hearts left behind is not to die."

The truth of those words hit me anew. I thought of those I loved so intensely who have died . . . unborn children . . . sisters . . . father . . . mother. There are still times when I feel their presence, their love, their touch, and though their bodies may have return to the earth . . . I know they are with me. They live within me. They have molded and made me. They live in my heart.

God is like that. We feel God. We see the touches and influences of God in our lives, in our world. Yet we cannot put God in a physical body to contain . . . to touch . . . to see, or . . . to prove. Somehow, however we KNOW God is real. God lives in our hearts and constantly strives to remind us of God's goodness; of God's love; of God's compassion. Even when we feel pain, God is there--within us--speaking to us . . . loving us.

God, there are times when the pain of loss, injustice is so hard to bear. We are overwhelmed with emotions of fear, anger, loss, and such pain. We feel so alone. Yet we know, Gracious, Loving God the comfort of you within our hearts. We are not alone. God, you are always there. Help us to turn to your love; to be your arms of comfort; to risk the pain of loss; to love because you live in our hearts. So be it. Amen.