I belong to a Bereavement Support Group. Everyone in the group is grieving the death of someone they have loved. In the group, we can try to say what we are feeling because we know we are all struggling with similar experiences and feelings. Out in the normal world, it’s hard to let people see what feels like wounds.
We hear about the Risen One’s wounds on the Second (and maybe the Third) Sunday of Easter. The Risen One shows them supposedly as a way of proving his identity to the disciples. Maybe.
Last week I had decided to quit the Bereavement Support Group. I wanted to move on. I wanted to not need the group anymore. So I met with the group’s facilitator and explained my reasons for leaving. The facilitator, listening carefully, heard and saw a wound. He led my attention to where I could see it and feel it for myself. I hadn’t known it was there, and I felt embarrassed: because it was there, because I hadn’t known it was there, because it was visible.
I don’t like being seen as wounded. I want to be seen as whole, healthy and on a good day, invincible. But I am not.
I am going to stay in the second Sunday of Easter for awhile — and in the Bereavement Group — and reflect on a Risen One who does not need to appear invincible, and who can let the wounds be seen.
Easter peace.
Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash
Beautiful and courageous. A wonderful Canadian comic Sandra Shamus, who grew up in my hometown Sudbury Ontario, said about grieving….. It takes the time it takes. So wise to remind us all that sometimes it’s a good idea to take some extra time and be where we need to be.
Courage to daily...put one step in front of the other among all of us, the walking wounded.