WELL. . .
Is THIS what you needed this morning. . .
Is THIS what someone you know might need. . .
IS IT TRUE?
Sometimes it nots what we can do….that’s simple
it’s what we are will to do. . .
PURPOSE’d
We’ve all heard
A B O U T I T
Before. . .
THE LAW OF ATTRACTION
We may all have heard about it
. . .maybe even believe it to be
. . .Maybe even have experienced it
like I did recently
with what some would call a
c o i n c i d e n c e
others,
an a c c i d e n t
others, still:
On PURPOSE
A fulfilled-never-doubt-it’s existence-ever-again
LAW OF ATTRACTION. . .
I was to meet someone to discuss plans for an upcoming Memorial Service for his mother and he canceled at the last moment when I was already at ‘the meeting place.’ Instead of just heading home, I decided on the fly to just go across the street to get dinner since no one was at home.
A table for one
I was sat at
beside another occupied
table of one. . .
She was talking on her phone, sipping from her martini glass and eating from her salad plate all at the same time. . .
From the
E A S E D R O P P E D
sound of it–
She was making funeral arrangements as well for her father. . .
When she hung up the phone she looked over a my table less than two feet away and remarked,
“WOW, we’re eating and drinking the same thing,”
I smiled over at her and said,
“I hope your’s taste as good as mine,”
. . .now this is where it gets eerily interesting:
I began,
“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t help but hearing what sounded like you making funeral arrangements for your father. I’m really sorry.”
“Yes. It’s been a mess trying to get everything together and planned. I have two sisters but we don’t get along that well; they’re both from out of town and I’ve been hear taking care of him. I’m just trying to make everything as nice as he deserves.”
“I do well over 20 funerals a month and I can tell you that it’s really normal for people not to get along at a time like this. It’s true–It brings out our best and sometimes, mostly, our worst.”
“Where do you do the funerals?”
“Well mostly in this general area, but I also do some in Lorain County, too. There are a lot of people who may not have a Church home, but deserve a true celebration of their lives and that’s where I’m able to come in and help.”
She named the funeral home and day they were planning to do the Memorial Service for her father. . .Wednesday. . .
“Wednesday night, at 7:00? I finished her sentence. . .
“Oh my God! You’re the guy who’s doing my dad’s service! I can’t believe this!”
“Yes. . .I’m sorry”
“Are you kidding me? This is the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me tonight. Ever since my dad died in the hospital a couple of days ago I’ve carried this deep pain and grief and now. . .”
t e a r s
“And now for the first time, I feel peace, I mean peace I’ve never felt before–ever! It’s like he just sat down beside me right here, right now to let me know that everything’s going to be alright.”
“Everything is alright. . .”
“I can’t believe this. . .no one will ever believe this. . .what are the chances out of all the places either of us can be, WE ARE HERE, sitting right next to each other planning the celebration of my dad’s life especially since you were suppose to meet someone else about their mother’s service across the street?”
“I don’t believe in accidents or coincidences. Everything’s on purpose; you believe that don’t you?”
“How can’t I?”
Well. . .
Do You?
I don’t know the real definition of
THE LAW OF ATTRACTION
but I do know there’s an unnamed
an unnoticed
Caring Catalyst Concept:
When you truly Care
When you’re truly Compassionate
You’ll need no GPS
You’ll need no gyroscope
You’ll need no compass
You’ll need no road map
You’ll need no AAA Trip-Tick
You’ll SHOW UP
not where you planned
not where you’re directed
but where you’re needed. . .
such is the Caring Catalyst Concept. . .
a guarantee
more sure than a heart beat
and closer than your next breath. . .
Caring
Compassion
assures it. . .
See you at a table for one
When the Coincidentally WRONG was Purposely RIGHT
Well. . .
what B E L I E V E
Y O U ?
Are you on the side of
C O I N C I D E N C E S
or
O N P U R P O S E
(as in, everything is ON PURPOSE?)
Carl Jung,
the famous Swiss psychiatrist came up with his own explanation
far past coincidences or on purpose. . .
Coincidences were, to him,
meaningful events that couldn’t be explained
by cause and effect,
which, so far so good,
but he also thought that there was another force,
outside of causality,
which could explain them. . .
This, Mr Jung called:
S Y N C H R O N I C I T Y
In their 1989 paper,
Methods for Studying Coincidences,
the mathematicians Persi Diaconis and Frederick Hosteler
considered defining a coincidence as a
‘rare event’
but decided
“this included too much to permit careful study.”
Instead, they settled on,
“A coincidence is a surprising concurrence of events, perceived as meaningfully related, with no apparent casual connection.
Forget Mathematics
Forget Research
Forget Scientific Studies
Forget Jung
Forget what I believe
THIS IS WHAT I
as an ever-striving Caring Catalyst
K N O W
It can happen–A N Y W H E R E–
You can meet Some One.
I never met the patient, now the deceased.
He actually died before he got out of the hospital. . .before he went home. . .before he went to a nursing home/assisted living/rehab center. . .he went to the funeral home.
The family didn’t have a minister, an Officiant to help celebrate his life. They had been told that I might be of assistance to them by the Assessment Nurse and then the Funeral Director.
I never met the family before the morning of the funeral. I talked briefly to the patient’s son and offered a visit to see if they wanted to me to specifically include anything in the service. I offered a visit to hold space with them; to offer supportive presence, to provide a time for them to do some life/family and life review.
He declined.
I arrived at the funeral about a half an hour before it began to introduce myself to the family members and ask again if there was anything else they would like me to include or if there was anyone else who might want to share a thought, a memory, a story, a word. . . .
“No. . .whatever you do is fine; we trust you.”
It was a roll of the dice–ON THEIR PART. . .they didn’t know me. . . .
I began the service; welcomed everyone and before a short prayer
He came running in and sat in the next to the last row. . .on the end seat.
We talked about how out of all the roles, out of all the jobs, out of all the the phases, all of the things he was able to attain and achieve, maybe the greatest was that he was loved and that he did love. . .that his life was not a gift so much as that it still is. . . .
I kept noticing that the man who had come in late, sitting near the back was weeping. . .then sobbing quietly to himself. A few beside or in front of him shot him glances; one lady handed him some tissues.
When the funeral was over we went the very short distance to the cemetery and did a small committal service at the graveside where I spoke about the green grass and the flower blooms being present where there was once, not long ago, mounds of snow. . .that life is a Season, that THIS, too is a Season, a See-You-Later and not a good-bye. There was a final prayer, blessing and a hope that his Peace might be our Peace. . .
and then. . .then it was over
and just beginning
The family and friends quickly left the graveside, having been invited back to the funeral home for a luncheon. All were leaving except for him.
“Hello, my name is Andy and I just wanted to tell your how much I really appreciated your words,” he said as he introduced himself and extended his hand to shake mine.
His eyes were red and a wet blue.
“I gotta tell you, I’m a little embarrassed,” he said not giving me back my hand, and still shaking it slightly up and down.
“I came here for the funeral of a guy I used to work with, and not only did I come to the wrong funeral home, but actually to the wrong funeral too. I didn’t even know this man. . .”
And before I could say anything, a tear rolled down his face again.
“My dad died about three months ago we weren’t really close and then we kind of got together again right before he died. There was so much I wanted to say to him and didn’t and the funeral was a blur and I have been hiding from the loss and the pain and today I walk into a funeral of a man I never met by mistake and what you said was everything I was suppose to hear. . . .”
We weren’t shaking hands now. . .
we just hugged
“Thank-you. . .Thank-you. . .Thank-you. . .Thank you. . . .”
I never got his name. . .
I firmly believe that every time I speak,
every time I write something it’s just for
One Single Person
I just don’t know which One Single Person it ever is, most of the time
He let me know it was him,
that day,
that moment. . .
It’s happened on other occasions when I’ve written what I consider to be a bad blog post (maybe even this one) or really bombed at a talk–thinking it was the worst ever–and it’s usually at those moments when
One Single Person
comes up to me and tells me how it was exactly just what they needed to hear.
Hmmmmmm of the day:
sometimes. . .the wrong turns out to be the absolutely right thing to happen
Question of the day:
Are you the One Single Person, now?
Thought of the day:
Who’s your One Single Person, today?
Psssssssssst of the day:
Don’t be mistaken into thinking it’s
N o O n e. . .
(and that ain’t no coincidence)
ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE
Is there?
Is there a r e a l
Difference between an
a c c i d e n t
and
on p u r p o s e . . . ?
I gave a presentation at a hospital
to case managers
to administrators
to social workers
to nurses
I was so effectively good
telling stories
about killing my grandfather by hitting a softball. . .
about a beloved youth group leader/pastor who ran over his daughter with his truck. . .
about a 34-year-old mom of 3 boys under the age of 6, dying of cancer. . .
about an 84-year-old altar boy who was throwing away his pain meds. . .
about a long ride home, watching my daughter cry in the backseat, after losing her fiancé . . .
about how our respective
H O L Y H E L L
isn’t a one-size-fits-a l l
not even
c l o s e
and how
y o u r s u f f e r i n g
y o u r p a i n
is
m y s u f f e r i n g
m y p a i n. . .
H O W
Grief can’t ever be fixed
Grief can’t ever be taken away
Grief can’t ever be elevated
H O W
Grief can only be
c o m p a n i o n e d
and that we are the
c o m p a n i o n e r s. . .
I wrapped it all up by
making them all stand up
and giving themselves a standing ovation. . .
and there were
t e a r s
and unusual-never-before-seen-amount-of-tears. . .
The head Administrator then gave an update
on one of their long-time good friend colleague
who had just found out she had cancer
and right there. . .
moments after I had finished my
H O L Y H E L L
we walked through
t h e i r s. . .
t h e y
couldn’t believe the
t i m i n g
of it all. . .
A C C I D E N T
or
ON P U R P O S E. . . ?
There were 28 of us
t h a t m o m e n t
w h o
didn’t have to
w o n d e r. . .
Y O U. . . ?
FORKED
COINCIDENCE?
HAPPENSTANCE?
ACCIDENT?
FATE?
What do you call it when
IT
All seems to fit together in a way that you could never, even on your best day, construe or imagine?
T R U E
is usually NOT the Word that comes to mind?
Why?
Too much of a HALLMARK or LIFETIME moment?
We are coming quickly to V-DAY at the end of the week.
When we speak of things of L O V E