Blog 906 – 02.16.2018
It is surprising sometimes where inspiration for blogs come from. In my work, utility construction inspection, in the cool north county, I had my first encounter a few weeks ago with devices called “Grave warmers.” Their purpose as the name hints is to warm the frozen ground to make digging graves easier or even possible. My guys are not digging graves but need the ground unfrozen so they can hand dig, locate, underground utilities in the bore path where new gas lines are to be dug, plowed, drilled and installed.
The term grave warmers brings to mind a more serious problem that we, the living, come across from time to time if we fall victim or someone we know to another less talked about “hoarding” problem. Regular hoarders are much more out in the open these days, you know, people whose homes and lives are cluttered with things that they just cannot bring themselves to let go of. (Like the Cable TV show) Most families have at least one, most people know at least one, and if you don’t you are probably the one. And, yes, it is a disorder but I do not judge. When I have all my spit together I will spit on you. But you are safe because I have a lot of my own spit to deal with. Probably several lifetimes worth in fact. Like the way I used spit instead of that other more graphic s-word? Makes you almost want to give me a pass for those three dangling prepositions in this one blog doesn’t it? Well, maybe not.
But the kind of hoarding that “grave warmers” brings to mind is of a far more dangerous and hurtful type. And I am speaking of not allowing yourself to let go of the dead. Though not perhaps as serious as the Norman Bates’ taxidermying mama and keeping her in a rocking chair and then talking to her like she is still alive kind, still many people can no longer enjoy the holidays or even the memories of their dearly departed because they have never let them go. Actually they can no longer live a full and happy life because they are dragging around a corpse with them wherever they go figuratively and not the person they loved but the rotting and stinking remains. The graphic picture that comes to mind is of a mother clutching her days deceased baby refusing to let the body be buried. Hard as it is to let go, it is do or die yourself – a long slow agonizingly painful death that your deceased loved one would not want for you nor your living loved ones who feel sorry for you but also cheated out of your company, attention, and affection.
Jesus told a young man once that he had asked to follow him who was making the excuse – let me first go bury my dead, “Let the dead bury the dead, come follow me.” What ever you believe about Jesus, he said he was “the way, the truth, and the life.” His way was not about grave yards, and his truth was – he wanted us to live unencumbered and abundant lives. Me and you too, so let’s encourage one another to let go of anything and everything that is no longer serving us and that means even the dead. They are waiting in a place where there is no impatience to quote Papa from “The Shack” and will be happy to see us when our chores here are done but between now and then till we see them again…listen to the song below to hear the rest.
No poem today, just a song, so sue me. Look for one tomorrow.
Your friend and fellow traveler,