The Waters of Your Soul

As a follow-up to my post earlier this week, I’m sharing a song that I wrote.  I jokingly call it the “Pastoral Counseling Song” sometimes, but it is about finding a place of hope and knowing that everything will be okay when you feel lost, alone, and empty.  I wrote this after following a conversation about holding space for someone, and how oftentimes they cry.  I have a hard time dealing with crying in front of other people.  It makes me feel vulnerable and silly.  But, on further reflection and discussion, tears are the most beautiful thing that someone can give you when you’re holding space with them.  We all hold sacred waters within us, and we are children of the earth.  If our eyes are windows to the soul, then our tears are the Waters of our Soul bubbling up and over as we process through our emotions.  When you cry, you are giving the best of yourself up to the Kindreds.  Even though you feel empty, you are giving what you have left.  And knowing that you’ve given the best of yourself in that moment and you will feel fulfilled again.
 
“All Things Are Sacred”
~Rev. Jan Avende
 
When you feel like your soul is empty:
When you feel like you can’t go on:
When you feel like this life is over:
Call on me.
Call on.
 
When you’ve let go all you can let go:
When you’ve let go all of your tears:
When you’ve let go your everything:
Call on me.
Call on
 
You should know that all things can be offered.
You should know that all things are sacred.
You should know that you’ve given the best
Of yourself
And it’s enough.
 
Even when the best of you is broken,
Even when you’re feeling small
Even when there’s nothing left inside you,
I am here.
I am here.
 
So take heart and know that you have given.
So take heart and know that I have heard.
So take heart and give me all your sorrow.
(I’ll) Fill you up.
I’ll fill you up.
 
I see the Waters of your soul are streaming
They spring forth and overflow.
I will hold this space for you
In the palm of my hand.
 
So remember, it’s okay to be empty.
So remember that you’ve given your best
So remember that at the end of the day
I’ll fill you up.
And you’re enough
 
You should know that all things can be offered.
You should know that all things are sacred.
You should know that you’ve given the best
Of yourself
And it’s enough.
 
It’s enough.
It’s enough.
It’s enough.
It’s enough
You’re enough.

Cradled in Silence

We all have times of crisis in our lives, but it is not that crisis that defines us.  Rather it is how we respond to that situation and how we cope with it.  In that moment of crisis, the thing I’ve always felt the most strongly is an overwhelming sense of being alone.  I want a connection at those times, but I can’t seem to find one or feel it at all.  A fellow priest and friend of mine is fond of saying “when you least feel like praying is when you need it the most,” but sometimes that is so incredibly hard.  Sometimes you can’t pray because you don’t have the words.  All you can do is cry, and you have nothing to offer but those tears that are flowing freely down your cheeks.  Even when you try to pray, you feel no connection and you hear no response back.  Rather than succumbing to this despair, feel it from new perspective.  When all you hear is silence in response to your most desperate prayers, perhaps it is because you are being held and rocked.  No words are needed.  
 
Kindreds, hear my prayer:
I don’t know where I am right now
I’m lost in body, mind and soul.
All I bring with me, all I carry now
Is sadness, tears, and an overwhelming sense of loss.
I can offer only what I have, no more than that.
Please, take what I bring, take what I carry,
And know that it comes from the depth of my soul.
 
Times like these, when I least feel like praying,
I come to you, and I open myself to you.
Please, Kindreds, hear me!
Your silence is all I hear from you now
As you hold me, rock me, and cradle me.
You are my shoulder to cry on,
My arm to lean on,
My ear to whisper to.
 
So, as I come to you
Offering the best I have in this moment,
Growing fearful that I can no longer hear your voice,
I know that you hold me, and rock me without words.
I know as I sob out, aching for comfort, to you,
you hear me Kindreds, as I am cradled in your silence.