Shuck and Jive

Monday, August 06, 2012


We made it through church.  You can even read the sermon.   Everyone was loving and kind.  I feel bad feeling bad because everyone is so kind.   I hope they know that my feeling bad has nothing to do with them.   There is no way ever that anyone is going to fix or ease anything, no matter how kind.   

I am a black hole. 

So after it was over I felt, I am sorry to say, a sense of dread.  The problem is that I need to do it again.  And again.  And again.  Every Sunday until I retire or die with my robe on.  

I have nothing to give.   All I have are grief and pain.  

On the sermon menu are grief and pain.  I may be able to serve up a side of bullshit.

My anxiety says, "Who can possibly listen to that week after week?  What congregation could be patient enough to wait for me to 'get through this?'" 

I know.  One sermon at a time.  One week at a time.  One day at a time.  I got it.  I'll get up there.  I'll do it.

That is what I mean by fake it 'til you make it.    It's called surviving.


  1. I can only dimly grasp what you are going through and so can only wait in almost silence but present like visitors to those sitting shiva.

    (My apologies for not writing earlier, I've been away for a few weeks and hadn't kept up with your blog).

  2. Black hole is a good description. It's an event horizon, a discontinuity in the space time continuum. After the before, but before the after. In it the passing of time has no meaning. It is, I think, the void before creation. Love needs a reflection. Without it there is only empty nothing.

    Your sermon was good. Rev Darrell Johnson wrote a fabulous book on preaching. He too lost a son.

  3. I am just reading all of this. I am so sorry for your loss. Please know you and yours will be in my prayers.

  4. As you continue to work through your grief, you are helping us all make meaning of life and loss, more than you can imagine.

  5. John, your congregation is patient and loving because our minister is patient and loving. You know sometimes the table have to be turned and the Minister needs some ministering to. Your shoulders can't always be rock solid. He ain't heavy father, he's my brother. We will carry you during your grief as Jesus carried us in our times of troubles. My shoulders are strong and my heart is huge. You deserve a congregation like ours, because we are love and compassion as you have shown us love and compassion.