Advent Week 2: Peace

 

As I sat down to light my candles last night, the night's theme started out as a hard sell. Peace, really???

In the outer world, the news is full of conflicts, ongoing and pending. So many lives lost. *sigh*

In my inner world, yesterday coincided with the fifth anniversary of Libby's death. I miss her. *sigh*

My thoughts tumbled and rolled about, tangled like sheets in the dryer.

But as I watched the candles glow, banishing the darkness, my heart began to quiet, my thoughts to settle. I began to pull one loose end, then another, and the shape of pieces began to separate from the jumble. A favorite church song from my youth came to mind: "Let there be Peace on Earth, and let it begin with me."

There is so much in the world I cannot fix. Despite my best efforts, I've found, time and again, the only thing I can reliably change is myself. So, I turned to my thoughts about Libby.

Survivor's guilt was at the fore. Logic doesn't enter into it, and part of me still thinks God took the wrong person home that day. She was just 51, still had a teenage girl to finish raising, while I was at loose ends, trying to find a new purpose for my days. Why did I survive my bout with cancer (so far), and she didn't? It isn't fair!

Truth. But, could I work to hold two opposing ideas simultaneously? Was it possible to both mourn because there is a Libby-shaped hole in my life, and to celebrate the joys I've found in these past five years?

I worked to find the balance and, to my surprise, the balance I found. (Libby would not have been happy with me for following the trail of should-have-beens anyways.) So, I let some of the tears that had been threatening all day fall freely, and I told her, Someone, of the Good I've found in life since she's been gone. Which freed me to be grateful for the good Libby brought to my life when she was still here. 

My thoughts followed the path to memories of light and laughter. To those long-ago days where I watched her grow up (she's six years younger than I), the sunshine in her hair reflected in her quest to bring that same light to her life. To love shared and treasured.  

And the quality of my tears changed, from grief and loneliness, to gratitude for the days we got to share. 

Peace begins with me.