I had a phone conversation with my brother Kurt on September 4, 2020, and our conversation turned to politics.
Kurt and I were on opposite sides of the political spectrum. Our discussion that day was about sharing of “I believe this because.” Ironically, though, right at the moment I was triggered by something Kurt said, our call dropped. I tried to call him back, and he tried to call me, but we could not reconnect. He sent me a text that said, “Next time, sis, let’s talk about guitars!” But we never did get to have that talk. Kurt had a heart attack on September 21st and died a few days later. Though we shared texts, our last conversation was about politics, and that makes me feel terrible.
When Kurt died, my trigger broke. I became immune to being hooked by the news or politics. Those things lost their hold on my heart. I wish our last conversation had been about music because music is something precious we share. When I think about it now, I feel silly about how much weight I once gave to what politicians, celebrities, or the media said/did; those things don’t matter. Is it possible to develop immunity from being triggered in a world where we are fed a constant stream of stories of people suffering, fearful, or being ugly to one another? All that ugliness once had my attention and ate away at my soul. But I can choose to refocus my thoughts on my family and disengage with the ugliness.
Kurt’s death helped break my trigger, but I needed more help. I wanted to find a daily devotional and found one on the Catholic Company website, based on the visions of Saint Hildegard of Bingen, titled Let There Be Light. Reading this book inspired me to start writing again. This passage from pages 22-23 touched me deeply.
I saw
the One who is sitting on the throne,
holding to his breast
what looked like
a lump of black, filthy clay
as big as a human heart,
decorated with precious stones and pearls.
In the lump of dark, muddy clay
we are meant to see ourselves—
widely different from each other,
full of defects,
stupid and blind,
impervious to the good things of the Lord,
blithely ignoring what we should praise,
preferring what we should abhor.
When we should be doing the works of justice,
we choose, often as not, the works of evil.
But God our father,
contemplating this lump of clay
like any father,
hugs us, his children,
close to his breast.
Because he is God
he has the tender love
of a father for his children.
Indeed, so great is his love for us
That he sent his only Son to the cross,
like a meek lamb carried to the slaughter.
And his son brought back
the lost sheep,
bearing them on his shoulders,
precious stones and pearls
with which to grace
the lump of dark clay
he hugs to his breast.
We are clay, and unto clay we shall return.
Pages 22-23 of Let There Be Light (30 Days with a Great Spiritual Teacher) by Hildegard of Bingen (Author), John Kirvan (Editor)
Kurt’s clay sculpture is complete, and he is home with God.
But I am still here—one of the lost sheep Hildegard mentioned, trying to turn my focus each day onto “the impervious goodness of the Lord.” I see Hildegard’s symbolism of pearls as wisdom and precious stones as love. I believe that we take our love and wisdom home to God when we go. So, for the time being, I’ll do my best to gather all the precious stones and pearls I can.
Hello Ja-lene,
This is so beautiful. My heart is touched and opened. Thank you for writing this.
I had no idea there was a Hildegard Journal. I will check it out.
Jo Ann
Thank you for your kind words Jo Ann. I know you will enjoy the Hildegard book. It was so profound.