When the ground beneath you crumbles and your world is riddled with loss, where do you find the strength to navigate the uncharted waters of grief? Nancy Reeves, from Brentwood Presbyterian Church, bravely opens up about her personal story of heartache and the resilience of her spirit. She shares a poignant reflection that tested her faith and how music that helped pave the path to healing.
In an episode that is as touching as it is insightful, Nancy discusses how the unexpected passing of her partner and mother within a short span shook the very foundations of her life. She explains how she found solace in the arts and the steadfast support of her church community. Her story is a profound reminder that amidst the depths of sorrow, there remains a hearth within our souls, a sanctuary where faith and love persist. Through her testament, we're reminded of the enduring power of faith and the arts in guiding us through the darkest of times.
Welcome to Resilient Faith, the podcast. Opportunities to find deeper resilience within ourselves can come when life seems most challenging. This podcast is to help you develop that resilience and connection with God. Being resilient and having power starts with faith.
Speaker 2:
Hello, my name is Nancy Reeves and I have been an active member of Brentwood Presbyterian Church for more than 20 years. I am currently serving there as the Director of Worship and Arts. I'd like to share with you in this podcast some of my recent journey through grief. This past year brought four life-changing events within the span of six months. The first two were so positive. I retired after 32 years of teaching and then took on the Worship and Arts Director position at the church. But suddenly I lost my partner of 22 years to a shocking cancer diagnosis and not long after that lost my mother, just months after her 90th birthday. It was a very difficult time. Suddenly I found a beautiful poem written by Irish poet, john O'Donohue, that describes some of what I experienced For grief by John O'Donohue.
Speaker 2:
When you lose someone you love, your life becomes strange. The ground beneath you becomes fragile, your thoughts make your eyes unsure and some dead echo drags your voice down where words have no confidence. Your heart has grown heavy with loss, and though this loss has wounded others too, no one knows what has been taken from you. When the silence of absence deepens Flickers of guilt, kindle regret for all that was left unsaid or undone. There are days when you wake up happy again, inside the fullness of life, until the moment breaks and you are thrown back onto the black tide of loss. Days when you have your heart back, you are able to function well until, in the middle of work or encounter suddenly, with no warning, you are ambushed by grief. It becomes hard to trust yourself. All you can depend on now is that sorrow will remain faithful to itself More than you. It knows its way and will find the right time to pull and pull the rope of grief until that coiled hill of tears has reduced to its last drop. Gradually, you will learn acquaintance with the invisible form of your departed and when the work of grief is done, the wound of loss will heal and you will have learned to wean your eyes from that gap in the air and be able to enter the hearth in your soul where your loved one has awaited your return all the time.
Speaker 2:
Grief like this was new to me. I had never before felt this kind of loss, losing my two closest confidants just weeks apart. It has been a struggle, especially when I come home to an empty house and when I think about calling mom to tell her what happened in my day, but there is a blessing in all of this, even though I still mourn and grieve. The blessings that I have received throughout this time are having God, my church, family and my dear friends loving me throughout, and having the gift of music. Music has always spoken to me unlike anything else. It's the way I express myself when words fail me, which they often do.
Speaker 2:
I was enthralled by music at an early age as I listened to my mother practicing Chopin and Rachmaninoff on the piano at home. It was the only subject in school I felt comfortable with and accomplished in, so I spent my career teaching it, and now I have the privilege to plan the music for the worship services at BPC. I get to combine the two things that I am most passionate about my faith and music. I felt a bit selfish actually choosing songs that are meaningful to me, that are joyful to me, and songs that are helping me get through the pain of my loss, but I know that I'm not the only one going through this. If these songs are speaking to me, then they are speaking to others.
Speaker 2:
I almost feel like I'm using church as a big therapy session. I guess it's true we all do. We gather together in our community to hear the good news of God's promise to sing and to pray with and for each other. It is therapy. So my work of grief is not done, my wound of loss has not healed yet, but I do know that, the hearth of my soul, that's where God resides, even though I may forget at times and even though I still grieve. I leave you now with one of my favorite hymns. Thank you for listening.
Speaker 3:
I will come to you in the silence. I will lift you from all your fear. You will hear my voice. I claim you as my choice. Be still and know I am here. Do not be afraid, I am with you. I have called you each by name. Come and follow me. I will bring you home. I love you and you are mine.
Speaker 1:
You've been listening to Resilient Faith. The podcast Resilient Faith is sponsored by Brentwood Presbyterian Church in West Los Angeles. You can follow our church and this podcast on Facebook at BPCTeam and Instagram at BPC underscore USA. Make sure to subscribe on your favorite podcast platform and thanks for listening.