Transitional Objects: Sacred Union & Longing in the Grief of Life

"Sacred Union" - photo by Trista Wynne

In All our Losses, All our Griefs: Resources for Pastoral Care, Kenneth Mitchell and Herbert Anderson discuss the benefit of transitional objects in easing the pain of separation and loss. We are often given a blanket, teddy or other stuffed animal to help us transition when we are children being weaned from our mother’s presence. Just as these transitional objects bring us comfort as children, so also are comforting objects incredibly helpful in times of grief.


I remember that when I was a young girl I had a large stuffed panda bear that remained near my bed at all times. When I felt afraid, such as when I had a bad dream, I would curl up in the soft embrace of my large panda bear; I often also brought my quilted blanket and when I was all wrapped up, a sense of security infused my being. It was a soft, warm place where I could cry or pray or look at a book, and I always was able to get back to sleep or face the rest of the day after having quiet time with my panda.

When I was preparing to go away to college and leave my childhood home, at first I thought I wouldn’t want anything from my earlier years, but when I found that my dad had brought one of my favorite stuffed animals named Kerby along for the car ride, I was quick to place it on my shelf. Truth be known, it ended up being snuggled with for the first several months that I was away from home. Gradually Kerby spent more time on the shelf than next to me, but his presence proved valuable for helping me get to sleep in a strange new place where no one and nothing was familiar.

Several years later I received a large stuffed bear for Christmas from my mother in law. It was a joyful addition to the random collection of stuffed animals that my husband and I had acquired for and from one another during our years of courtship. This large, soft bear ended up serving the role of transitional object when I could no longer hold the child I once had nannied. When I had fretful dreams where the child was out of my grasp, or where I was being pulled away from the child, I held the bear and was usually able to get back to sleep. If I came home from work and my husband was still on the clock, the bear helped the tears to flow freely. Over several weeks and even a few months, the bear served as an object of comfort and connection to the one I could no longer hold. Gradually my dependence upon this bear to sleep lessened and the nightmares dissipated. After several months, I found myself only reaching for the bear occasionally, and later, usually in moments of joy when I was remembering the child. As I gave the bear a hug, I would pray that my Lord Jesus would wrap that child in His strong arms and let that child know how much they were loved and missed from this side of eternity.

A couple of years prior to that, when I had miscarried, my mom crocheted me a prayer shawl. She made it with several strands of yarn together so that it was very soft and very warm, and I knew that she had prayed for my healing, safety and blessing with every stitch. She and I had both crocheted several prayer shawls for others, so I knew the intensity of the love that went into this blanket. Whenever I felt lonely, depressed or discouraged, I found that wrapping up in this shawl lifted my spirits and gave me comfort.

The sensation of grief leaves one feeling very cold and the brokenness on the inside of the heart feels jagged, so a blanket helps to bring warmth and softness and renews the spirit. Soft, soothing objects like teddy bears or clothing that was once worn by our loved ones provide a tangible connection to the one for whom we long, and they ease the burden of sorrow, even if only for a few moments. The respite from our grief allows us to breathe more deeply and clears our minds of the chaos that tumbles around inside.

Our Lord Jesus knew the burden of grief and separation. He wept openly when His family friend, Lazarus had died, and was deeply moved in compassion for his close friends when He knew that He was about to be betrayed and sentenced to death through a flawed justice system. Even though both of these deaths led to resurrection, Jesus knew that there was great pain in separation from our loved ones. I believe this is why we have the Lord’s Supper.

After a sacred final meal with His close friends and their families, He took bread, broke it, gave thanks and gave it for all to eat, telling them to remember His body every time they felt, cut, tasted and internalized bread together. And He shared His cup of wine, looking forward to the coming days when, as the prophets of old said, the mountains will drip with sweet wine, and the land all around us will be abundantly fruitful with justice, mercy and steadfast love and faithfulness. Whether or not we fully comprehend the meaning of this final meal, and whether we share it often or only on rare occasions, this meal gives us communion with our Lord, with each other, and with all peoples who at any time in any place have called on the name of Jesus.

This simple meal of bread and wine is for us a transitional object, serving as a connection point where the sacred and mundane all come together, where we all receive comfort, sustenance and preparation to continue along the journey of faith, proclaiming the Lord’s life, death and resurrection until the day comes when every tear will be wiped away and there will be no more pain, no more suffering, no more separation or sting of death, and all things shall be made new. The bread is soft and comforting, and the wine spreads warmth through our bellies. Our Lord meets us in this meal and the grief of this life is lifted, even as we wait the completion of the promise for renewal, peace and abundant life in eternity.

We await Your coming kingdom, Lord Jesus, and we are thankful for Your gifts of this sacred meal and of Your Holy Comforting Spirit who encourages us until we all can physically touch Your face and hear You call us each by name. While we are in this time of transition, where the human spirit, the creatures and the entire earth cry out with grief, help those of us who know the gifts found at Your table to share Your ways of peace, justice, mercy and steadfast love through our way of life and in our thoughts and words towards one another to the delight of our Father in Heaven. May we be strengthened and renewed in order that we might minister to Your world in this time of need, amen.

Good Grief: A Response to Westberg's Classic

Having just read through Westberg’s classic booklet entitled Good Grief for class, I wanted to briefly capture the moment and record where I am this evening. It is October, the month of birth for a child I nannied who died several years ago. When I was caring for him and another beautiful boy about the same age, I was in the final stages of recovery from the loss of my own children through miscarriage, and found time with them extremely healing. So, when the one child died, I felt the grief both of being his caregiver and the mother I would have been if my own children survived pregnancy. Only a few short months later, I received my long-awaited Associate’s degree and my husband and I moved out of state so I could attend a four-year college. This was our first time away from our childhood town, church and family, and so we grieved this transition, even though it was for a good purpose.


This was a complicated and difficult road of grief, one on which I, and my husband had, very few confidants in our new place; it was a road which threatened to tear my husband and I apart, since neither of us had experienced anything like it before. Gradually, though, we learned how to discuss our feelings, our fears and our furies, and to work through our respective grief together, and began to build relationships in our new community.

It took me several years before I could accept a nanny position with an infant again. I had several other jobs, including a few nanny positions, that I took in the time between, some fulfilling, others less-so, but all filled with healing, self-awareness, growth and opportunities to care for others. Now I care for a child who is almost two-and-a-half, and I have been his nanny from his ninth month of age. I am filled with joy whenever I am with this child, and sense the Spirit of God blessing our time together.

I remember that for a time after we first moved here, it seemed that nothing could have chiseled away at the dark night of my soul. Now, though, those days are a distant memory. Tears do occasionally come to my eyes when I encounter a beautiful child about the age that my own kiddos would be now, or when I see an early-elementary aged boy with unkempt blonde hair sticking out every which way, reminding me of the baby I had nannied.  Tonight I can hear his sweet nick-name for me, see his face and hands covered in spaghetti sauce, and feel the warmth of his head resting in the crook of my arm as I would rock him to sleep with his teddy bear.  These memories are indeed very sweet, even though my eyes grow moist as I type them.

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if my children were with me today. They would be about at the age of reading on their own and doing science experiments in the kitchen. I certainly do not know why they are not here, but I trust that God knows and trust that they know how much they are loved even though we have never met outside of the realm of deep meditation or the occasional dream.

I may not have the life I envisioned several years ago, and I still wait for the day to come when the sounds of tiny footsteps are heard in our living room late into the evening, but beyond these losses, my life has continued. I am stronger and willing to be more vulnerable than I ever was before, and I find that both qualities lend themselves beautifully to the work of counseling, teaching, and pastoral ministry. Because I have walked the valley of the shadow of death, I know the value of life and, more often than not, do not sweat the insignificant problems. Patience and quietude and peace have been more deeply embedded in my spirit as a result of my trials, and I do what I can to share these gifts with others who I encounter along life’s pathway. Deep in my heart, throughout my life, I have felt the touch of the Great Physician: Jesus, my Lord, and I look forward to continuing to share His healing grace with you here in this online space where together we can seek quiescence and serenity in the midst of a chaotic world.

I pray that in the deep wounds of your life, you also are able to feel the gentle, healing touch of our Savior, to be filled with the peace of the Holy Spirit and to receive the deep, abiding joy that flows forth from a life rooted in the faith in our loving and compassionate Creator who holds all things, even those things we don’t understand in strong and capable hands.

He Saw Me: The Woman at the Well

This weekend I was on a two-day retreat with several members of my learning community. We were drawn into the story of Jesus and the woman at the well in Samaria by one of the pastoral spiritual directors who were ministering to us at the time. I closed my eyes and listened as John 4:1-26 was read aloud. The most poignant part of the story for me, (that is, the point at which I believe healing began within this woman) occurred when Jesus saw her. Here I relay this moment through her eyes:

*****

A strange and wonderful thing happened to me this morning. I was seen. Not by the darting, shifting eyes of the uncomfortable neighbors wanting to get away from me as quickly as possible, nor by the scornful elders wishing to renew the law of stoning, nor by the fearful gaze of the children who were told horror stories so they wouldn’t draw near me when I passed in the heat of the day. I was looked at, seen, by a Man. No man has ever seen me as the One today. I have never seen such eyes!

When that Man looked at me, He was not ashamed. He was not brazen either. I was not a filthy garment to be trod upon or a pestilence to be avoided. I was not an object to be possessed and used and abused and then discarded on a whim for a younger, prettier model. 

No. That Man saw me. He saw me! 

His eyes did not trace my figure or burn with ravenous desire; His eyes met mine and lingered. His eyes were compassionate. A softness like the feather of an eagle, and the tenderness of a nursing mother emanated from His inner being when, with those precious, searching eyes, He saw me.

Surely this is no ordinary man.  Surely this Man is Messiah.  Surely He is my Savior.

*****

It struck me as I listened to this story that the majority of Jesus’ miracles begin when He sees someone. Not only is their physical request for healing met, but because Jesus sees every aspect of their lives, He reaches out to the whole person, healing body, mind, spirit and relationships within their communities and family systems. As I meditate on this particular passage, I am struck by how transformational this woman’s encounter with Jesus is. Her shame, solitude, and physical distress are all taken away. She is embraced by the community for sharing the truth of her encounter, and many come to faith in Jesus as Christ, the Savior of the world, on account of her testimony. After encountering Jesus, she no longer has to make a lonely journey to draw water outside of the city in the heat of the day, and her community feels the love of God and knows that the Savior has come near. Every family and community structure in town is turned upside down and healed because Jesus saw the real need.

Tears overflow as I am moved by the powerful heart-knowledge that this same Jesus who saw the woman at the well sees me today. Even when I struggle to see the truth through the layers of my own tumult, I can take comfort in knowing that I am being seen for who I am, and the eyes that behold me are the eyes of Love. Thanks be to God!

Shifting Directions: A Call to Stillness on the Journey

One day while walking with a friend through a local botanical garden, I found that she was, as Frederick Buechner puts it, getting lost in her own rhetoric . She spiraled around and around in her self-depreciating thoughts and pontifications as we quickly walked along a stony pathway. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another path, one without the sharp, noisy stones, but lined instead with soft, supportive bark shavings. I leaned in the direction of the smaller, curvy trail to our left and invited her to join me. The chatter stopped as suddenly as the noise from our footfalls ceased echoing through the wooded area. Our breathing slowed as we were engulfed in the peaceful area near the ravine. Even from several feet away, I could feel her blood pressure lowering and saw the wildness drift out of her eyes. I slowed my gait and breathed deeply until we became still and listened to the fluttering wings of a nearby jay bird. The call of a raven hovered on the gentle breeze, and then it was still.


After a length of time I quietly entered the silence with a verbalized rumination on the beauty of that place, noting that I had come down that particular trail several times when I needed Mother Nature to break the cycle of chatter in my mind. We continued standing there for a long moment, allowing ourselves to be filled by the presence of our Creator. As I slowly began making my way around another bend in the pathway and I heard her soft footfalls behind me, I noted that when life seems to be overwhelming to me, I search for things to be grateful for – usually from the things that we often take for granted, like the ability to walk, speak, think, run, breathe, and the presence of running water, food, clothing, shelter, the ability to see this beautiful scenery and to reach out and touch it, receiving the sensations through my fingertips without feeling pain. I let the words remain speaking in the silence that followed until we returned to the path of stones and let the rhythmic sound fill the rest of our time together.

At the end of our walk through the garden, my friend noted the intensity of the shift between the spiraling chaos that she had entered into and the serenity she was led into through the simple change of direction. It was as if, she said, I had physically grabbed hold of her heart and yanked it out of the darkness and brought it into the light which, at that moment, she had almost forgotten existed. Although I had neither physically touched her nor pushed her into the light, the change of atmosphere had brought the shift in an immediate and striking way. As soon as the surrounding atmosphere was quiet, her spirit became suddenly aware of its own foolish chatter and it ceased making noise. She thanked me for drawing her out of herself and back into the world again.

The truth of the matter is that I am only able to do for others what has already been done for me. My Lord showed me when I was very young that the quickest way to escape the chaos, whether it be around or inside of me, was to change my direction, to listen to the creation around me, and through the avenue of nature to listen to my Maker’s heartbeat and align my own with that of the Divine. I pray that you will be blessed by relationships with people who know when to bring you into the realm of peace and stillness. You will be tremendously blessed when you enter the silence that draws you into the Light of Love and Peace. May the Lord grant you rich times of fulfillment and the joy of discovering yourself in the awesome heartbeat of our Loving Creator! Let it be through the power of the Holy Spirit, through Jesus’ name to the glory of our Great and Glorious God, amen.

Soul-seeking in the Spirit of Truth

In response to a dear friend's concern that they might be spending too much time inside themselves and not enough time in prayer, I wrote the following piece.  I believe it speaks to many who are seeking to be faithful but have received the message (either directly or indirectly) that they should renounce themselves and strive to become someone else.  I am reading a book by Parker J. Palmer entitled Let Your Life Speak:Listening for the Voice of Vocation and I find that I resonate with much of what he is saying within the first few chapters.  Parker's book helped me identify how best to serve my friend in response.  I may have more reflections as I work my way through this text.  For now, I share my developing views and encourage you who read not to be afraid to dive deep into your own inward parts.  If you find that your early woundings or in-depth conversations with your heart are difficult, I encourage you to consider locating a professional counselor, (many of whom work on sliding scales) and/or a trained spiritual director in your area.  I can tell you from experience that these well-trained professionals are tremendously helpful in seeking health, wholeness and peace.  Blessings to you along your journey.  May we all come to know that we are the beloved children of a loving and gracious God!

*****
Beloved ~

I certainly understand the heart's tendency to "turn inward rather than upward" in the alone times, but perhaps this is exactly part of the plan to find closer fellowship with our Lord. It is easy to get the impression from outside influences, (and even Christian churches) that our inward self, (heart, mind, spirit) have been completely tainted by sin and have to be harnessed or escaped from in order that we might willfully become obedient to Christ's orders for us. The more time I spend with myself and soaking in the Word, (particularly the Psalms, Song of Songs and other Hebrew Scriptures) the more I am discerning that our inward parts which were "knit together in our mother's womb" have been uniquely created for us to be able to process, interact with and reach out to the world around us. Beloved, we are not turning away from God when we turn to listen to our heart beat, we are acknowledging the amazing handiwork of our Creative and Gracious Lord. "I praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made," says the psalmist, we "know that the Lord is God, [for] it is He who made us and we are His". Certainly there are times when our hearts are hardened or our spirit is wrestling with the Most High, but I believe these times are the exception rather than the rule.

Trust the Teacher within your heart. Our Lord has promised never to leave or forsake us, has promised to give us hearts of flesh not of stone, and has promised that the Holy Spirit will be our continual Teacher, Comforter, Guide and Friend -- searching our inward parts and constantly interceding on our behalf. As long as you remain open, you will not be led astray when you look within, for the Lord is guiding your discernment and processing, and is using this time to prepare you for the tasks that lay ahead.

When you are remembering things that happened to and around you during your childhood and early adolescent years, the Holy Spirit is guiding your inward parts into new alignment, healing old wounds, working to strengthen and uphold you with Her victorious right hand. When you are remembering the words that you have heard in the classrooms, worship settings and Bible studies throughout the years, the Great Teacher is solidly fixing the Word to your inward parts, letting it shape each heart beat, influence your mind and helping you to come to love yourself deeper. Remember, Beloved, that we are called to love our neighbor as ourself, and thus we need to develop deeper and more sincere love for every part of ourselves so we can develop love, kindness, compassion and mercy for the people, animals and world around us. When we come face to face with times where we have left something undone that probably should have been done, or done something one way when we likely could have done it better, these are not times for us to become self-effacing, but rather they are times when we can connect with the people around us who see themselves and others as broken so that we will not judge but instead offer the mercy, grace, compassion and healing that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ offers to all people.

My dear undergrad professor and mentor used to say that the journey inward and the journey upward will, eventually, lead to the same place. The more time I spend inside myself, (as I have done a great deal of this summer, not without some turmoil, questioning and frustration) the more I come to sense that this saying is deeply rooted in Scriptural truth. Soul-seeking is a way of listening to the Holy Spirit, a way of cherishing the Breath of Life which flows from the Living God, and a way of acknowledging that "the earth is being filled with the knowledge of the glory of God as the waters cover the sea". I believe our inner tumult is a way of stretching our view of who God is and opening us up to more fully comprehend how very great the salvation of incarnation: (the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ) truly is. The Holy Spirit is present within you and around you, Beloved in Christ. Do not doubt but believe that our Lord who created you, who knit you together in your mother's womb, who called you by name before you were born, who has a plan to prosper you and not to harm you, who calls you friend, child and beloved, this same Lord is working within your inward parts, aligning them with Her own heartbeat, filling them with His light and love and peace, and preparing you for the many challenges that lie ahead in your journey.

Peace be with you, Beloved.

I love you and lift you up in prayer every day. Your name lies on my makeshift altar (coffee table draped with precious cloth, sprinkled with sweet oil, and arranged with art, photos, Scripture, candles and symbols of our faith) and I trust that the Lord is already guiding this process of discernment and self-reflection. This is all for His glory. Trust the process; it is Spirit-filled.

Sleeping In Saves the New Quarter

Well, the new quarter began today. After the great tiredness I felt at the end of last term I thought I would never be caught up on my sleep. My good friend, who is a natropathic doctor, posted a blog entry on the importance of sleep in proactive healthcare and prevention.  I read it just as I was nearing the end of the term and found myself mourning the loss of a good night's sleep. The days felt long and dreary and the nights felt short and fretful. But before I knew it, my papers and finals and journals were all complete and I was thrown into Spring Break nearly a week early, rewarded for my hearty efforts and nearly-sleepless nights. As I type this evening I simply want to note what a difference a few good nights of sleep can make!

Today, after nearly two full weeks off, I began the new term. As I drove across the bridge into Seattle the sun broke through the clouds and I found myself singing joyful songs of praise and thanksgiving for the gifts of friendship and learning. I let a few straggling cars into the turning lane and was delighted in the colors of the opening flowers by the side of the road; even the dandilions and lost drivers seemed to be a Divine blessing. Those are not exactly my thoughts when the nights are too short, but today, after several full nights of sleep and a long weekend away, visiting family with my husband, I can say that all feels well.

We have three students who are taking their first class at FNW in American Church History and I am delighted to be of some assistance to them. Now that I have been at FNW for two terms full time and have been balancing work, school, family and church, (though admittedly I'm still lacking in keeping connected with friends outside of school and sometimes get a little sleep-deprived) I feel equipped enough to share my experiences (even though I'm still relatively new to the school) with them and am excited to be in a position of mentorship. Mentoring is one of my giftings and something for which I am passionate. I love to care for others and to assist them along their life's journey, particularly when I have recently been in similar shoes as theirs.

I pray that our Lord might work through me and the other folks in the class who have been around for a while so that our community might be more cohesive and supportive. I pray that our new quarter might be filled with joy and love and laughter and learning, and that we all might benefit greatly from our time at FNW. I pray for our smaller Systematic Theology course, that we might be more fully equipped to be church leaders as we discern what the definition and purpose of church is, and that as we look toward the end time study of eschatology we shall be filled with the great Christian hope that, as Julian of Norwich says, "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well".

Today marks a most excellent beginning to the new quarter! Sleeping in certainly has saved the day.

Starting Fresh

I have been AWOL from the blog world for some time now. Sorry. I'd like to begin anew and attempt to keep track of my joys and sorrows as I continue working on my MDiv at Fuller Seminary Northwest, (hereafter referred to as FNW) nannying part time, participating in worship as part of the Frankincense Community, painting, singing and songwriting, and nurturing my relationship with my husband. I'll do my best to stay on top of things and to post regular updates for family and friends here.

Shalom.