The desert

So, everyone except up to 2 singers, 1 reader, 1 server, and clergy are prohibited from the services. As the choir director, I am one of those singers. Until March 25, that is. That's when my pastor told me, in a kindly way, that it would be best if I stayed home, since I will have surgery in a couple of weeks which makes me high risk. It wasn't ugly of him at all. At the same time, he gave me the parish traveling icon for as long as I want or need her. It was shocking, but he was looking out for my welfare.

That Saturday, I cried on the phone at the thought of no church, no communion, no annointing, and Dennis convinced me that I should attend church because with a cancer diagnosis, I need church. He was right. I didn't want any kind of scene, so I went to the church, where my confessor and Dennis are. At that point, my confessor said I should come the next Sunday (today), which is the Sunday prior to surgery, and would annoint me. Such a relief.

At some point during the week, he and my parish priest spoke, and then my confessor and I spoke - it was clear to me that he was in a difficult position with my parish priest. I cried at the thought of no church, no communion, no annointing, but it was also clear to me that it was a relief to him when I said I would not continue to put him in a difficult situation and therefore would not attend.

So, I didn't. I watched the live stream from my confessor's church today. It was highly unsatisfactory, but so much better than nothing.

It's not lost on me that this first Sunday where I find myself in the desert is the Sunday when we commemorate St. Mary of Egypt, who spent 40 years alone in the desert, without commuion, without sacraments, without loved ones. I ought to be praying that I become more like her.  I did pray this morning that I would be more accepting of this closed door, just the most recent one in a life time of closed doors.  Intellectually, I think I get it - I think that my self will is very strong, my reliance on myself, is being severed and it is painful. I get it that this is the lesson to be learned - to lean not on my own understanding.

But my heart and my emotions are brokenhearted and questioning why everything comes so hard for me. Why I never get to that place of contentment. Why I never get what and who I want. Why I am under stress all the time; alone, unloved, unwanted, uncared for. It breaks my heart. Usually I get angry, but I'm so brokenhearted that I can't even muster enough energy to shake my fist angrily.

Maybe why doesn't matter. It simply is. My life is simply my life, not the life I wanted, not the life I chose, not the life I need.  But I have to play the hand I'm dealt, as I have throughout my entire life. St. Mary of Egypt chose the desert; I have not chosen the desert, but I find that I am alone in the desert just the same. May it be profitable. Amen.