Loss, grief, confusion

One of my dear friends writes lovely poetry on two different blogs, both of which I have linked in my blogroll on the side of my page. Though she has disclosed her name to me in private for the sake of including it in my prayers, most of you who have encountered her probably know her affectionately as "Rae". We first encountered each other through our shared experiences in the autistic community. Though she does not have autism, she does have close family members with autism. I also bear autism as a cross. It creates a multitude of confusion, especially with social interactions. I often have a difficult time forming and making friends because of my experiences. It is difficult for people to communicate with me as a result. For those who bear this cross or know close family bearing this cross, it is difficult to see their sufferings.

Her last poem is exceptionally beautiful. I recommend reading it several times. It is about our venturing around in this world. We find ourselves wandering around in darkness, yet as we bear this baptismal garment, there is for Christians a light that remains with us at all times. We cannot hope to fully know God in this life for our minds are too feeble to understand that infinite goodness that He is. We can only begin to grasp. Yet for Christians, we return to Him. We return to the home He has prepared for us. When we return, we will experience the full fruits of our labors. Though we are often times in confusion, pain, and suffering, we will be eternally glorified, partaking in the Divine light that shines through us, even if dimly for now.

Though this poem can be applied to all of our sufferings, she mentions that she wrote it for a woman who experienced the loss of her child and husband on the same day. One of the many crosses that are given out is that of grief. We experience and deal with grief so differently. Yet for those who are bound to the Resurrection, there remains a flicker of hope. We may not see this hope clearly in the losses that we have been inflicted with, but the hope does indeed prevail. There are many examples in Christian tradition of those who have been wounded with grief, but a particular woman in the history of Christianity comes to my mind whom this poem applies so well to.

St. Cleopatra was a widow of a Roman officer, living in Egypt, during the time of the Holy Martyr Varus. She had witnessed firsthand the sufferings of Varus. He was also a Roman officer and a Christian. Cleopatra was moved by his sufferings and also extended compassion for him as he had shared the position of her deceased husband. When he was killed, she pleaded for his relics so that she could honorably bury them, stating that her husband was an officer and that she wanted to bury his relics honorably. St. Varus was not her husband, but she took his relics and gave them honorable burial, building a Church for him. Cleopatra gave herself in devotion to the Holy Martyr from that point on.

Now Cleopatra had one son named John. Once, when praying, she asked the Holy Martyr Varus to give to her son that which was beneficial in the eyes of God. Her son, who was at an age to be enlisted into the army, became ill shortly afterward and died. In her grief, being hit with the loss of her son, she cursed at the Holy Martyr whom she had honorably buried and devoted herself to all this time. Experiencing confusion from her grief, she could no longer see what was beneficial to her son. She was losing faith from this experience. It was the Holy Martyr who appeared to her in a vision then, with her son at his side. She beheld her son in the glory of Heaven, crowned with a wreath and standing next to the martyr. Varus offered her son to her but pleaded that she would reconsider having now seen her son basking in the radiant glory of eternity. Cleopatra was called back to faith in this moment and allowed her son to remain in eternity. She would enter into eternal rest with Varus and John soon.

This life is incomplete. I grieve most for those who can only see this earthly life. Often times we want to curse at God because most of the time, we only see a tangled mess. We see ourselves apart from God, distant from God, plagued with dark and depressive thoughts, sometimes blasphemous, wondering if someone will ever lift these from us. We can always ask that the burden be made lighter, but much of the time, it is the things we overcome that make us great. I have heard how Samwise is the "true hero" of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. Frodo gave into temptations and Samwise pulled him aside, always directing him onward. We all have spiritual directors in this life who aid us in our lives. But it is not what our directors overcome that lead us to Heaven. They are helping us overcome our temptations. Frodo is at the helm of it all, bearing the ring. He is suffering the deepest conflict of all the Hobbits and all of the characters. He is tasked with the greatest burden of all. This is what makes Frodo the hero. If God were to take away our temptations, our sufferings, what triumph would we experience when they were finally thrown down. This is why a Christian should not fear death, for in death, we enter into the most splendid of eternal rest.

Much like St. Cleopatra, we have our moments where we become angry toward the God we love wondering why He has weighed us down with such a heavy burden, why He has taken away those we love so dearly. But as we wrestle through this, as we continue to see only the tangled mess of the incomplete tapestry, as we see through the glass darkly, we come to realize there is beauty in our sufferings. Whatever your cross may be, whether it is dealing with developmental disorders or standing by a loved one as they experience a battle to overcome their developmental disability, or if it is the loss of a loved one as was thrown upon the woman my friend wrote her poem for or even St. Cleopatra, or maybe your cross is something different, we all struggle through this life. But we remain connected to Him through His touch. We come to touch His grace in the sacraments. He provides warmth for us when a friend lights a blessed candle for us. He lifts our burdens when we confess our sins to Him and receive His grace in the sacrament of reconciliation and He fills us with His grace once more when we partake of the Holy Eucharist. This touch remains with us, even should He appear most distant at times.