Mystery

She smiled at me, eager and amused, clearly anticipating the surprise I was about to receive, waiting for my dazed mind to make the connection. As I became aware of who I was with she burst into peals of delighted laughter filled with life and joy. It was Heidi! She was with me at last! I knew I was dreaming, not real as we understand "real," but here she was! Pure happiness. 

No sooner did I recognize her than so many questions spilled out of me, tumbling over each other to be asked. But the more I asked, the more distant she became, until she slipped from being present with me, to a phone conversation, and then a bad connection, and then nothing. I awoke filled with both joy and sorrow. Joy in the visit, and sorrow in the realization that perhaps this was why she can't visit - at least not me.

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I was unprepared for the readings at Mass today. The story of Lazarus. That story walked us through January.  It wasn't until late in Heidi's illness that I felt able to reread it myself. Reading it then, I had been startled by the verse referring to the healing of the blind man. I had just been at the hospital praying over Heidi, kissing her head, pleading with God, "Why my eye, and not her body?" (I was healed of ocular myasthenia gravis after receiving prayer in 2018, and the story of blind Bartemaeus has since been one of my favorites.)

Today's readings were so full of truth for Heidi. Jesus says, "I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?" 

I do believe, and where I don't understand, I pray, "I believe, help my unbelief."

...but in relation to those of us still earth-bound, she is in the grave, and these beautiful scriptural promises can feel rather...unhelpful, practically. Lazarus today, and Holy Week coming soon, I walk these days leaning heavily on the Marys [of Bethany, Magdalene, Mother], consoled to have these women as my companions. 

The story of Lazarus is a mystery, Heidi's death is a mystery, Easter in grief is a mystery, (an upcoming post). 

"Do not cling to me," Jesus's words to Mary Magdalene when she recognizes him after his resurrection, was the phrase that came to me as I reflected on my dream. The tighter I clung, the further she slipped away. The most wonderful moments were the first, in which we simply were, together in the mystery. Come Holy Spirit.