To be or not to be

In November of 2003, my husband suffered a heart attack and almost left this earth. Literally he came back from the dead, and is living still today. The year 2004, was one fraught with complications and healing. As his caretaker, I was immersed in the operations of our company and the day to day routine of his care. I did not check out that year, but I can only describe it as the year of "auto-pilot". God allowed me a type of aftershock, that provided a coccoon of security and peace amidst the struggle. It was an incredible year, and that is meant in the very worst and best way.

The person I was after that year was not the person I had been. I laughed, but no longer with quite the same freedom. I lived, but it did not seem laced with the same abandon. I hoped, but it was not with the hope was slightly colored with loss and grief experienced. I was not a better or bitter person. Just a different person.

I somewhat liked where I was. The pressure to be the life of the party, the rock of Gibralter, the Pollyanna of the family was no longer there. I was me, in all my raw glory - you get what you get. I longed for the person I was. But I could not find me. I was nowhere to be found and I did not know how re-organize or re-make myself.

A very wise woman told me this past week, that perhaps that person does not exist any longer. I was totally caught offguard. How could that be? She is in the mirror and I see and feel her in the small joys and struggles of life. She is there - isn't she. She suggested that I have entered a different season of my life. That the advent was not only camoflauged but ushered in through the crisis of that year. That the last half of life is one of being, not doing.

But what was I to do with this new life, I asked. What ministry would this result in? What would I be able to do for God? How would this work out? But even as I said the words, I realized how redundant they sounded. Being is not doing. It is just being. I am not comfortable with that. I am a do-er, not a be-er. My worth, my abilities are caught up in the doing of things, not the being of a person. But by whose standard am I measured. Mine, others, or God.

She suggested, now get this, that God was pleased with just me. Devoid of action or ministry or purpose. That just as I loved my grandchildren with a love that was not dependent on their goodness or performance, so was the love of God. God as a grandfather is a picture of benevolence beyond the Father image. It is one that embraces the prodigal, that finds the lost sheep, that forgives Peter for denial, that gives Paul that second chance on a Damascus road.

It is one that says, "It is OK, you are OK. And I love you"