Seared and Sacred
“The world for which you have been so carefully prepared is being taken away from you by the grace of God.”
Yesterday, in the Jung Study Group, we listened to a lecture about despairing love. We heard about all the stages of love and loss; from fluttering heart to leaden sorrow. About the journey of love in all its manifestations. Despairing love is not an easy topic to hear about, or to think about, or to talk or write about, but it is as much a part of love as first blush.
When we lose someone we love, we do ourselves proud to allow the fall into sorrow to happen, and to trust that light is waiting at the other end even if we can't see it during the descent. Too many of us rush to find a safety net before the fall, or even half-way down—a new relationship, a new house, a new town, anything to stop the pain. I have a friend who just lost her sweet sister to cancer, who is wondering why her own face looks different now—strained, puffy eyes. Grief does that. It changes us. And, if we allow it, it changes us for the better. It takes us deeper into life; into the true meaning of our own life.
Nothing in the world prepares us for loss of love. We cannot think our way through, or put a positive spin on it, or numb our way through with drugs or alcohol. There is no way through it but through it. You've seen an ordinary terracotta urn turned into beautiful Raku by being scorched over time in a very hot fire. There's no other way to get that gorgeous finish so prized by the Japanese for their sacred tea ceremony. That is how it is with us when we allow ourselves to pass through all the stages of love. By the grace of God, we come out seared and sacred.
In the Spirit,