Mind, Body & Soul: All In
Blessed be you, Lord God,
for the holy one, Mary;
Already in her
heaven and earth are one.
Grant through her intercession
that our whole being,
body, soul and spirit,
may come to the glory of the Resurrection,
in Jesus, the Christ, our Lord. Amen
Adapted from Proclaiming All Your Wonders
My twins, Jake and Samantha, are getting ready for their junior year of college while I write. They are packing, running last-minute errands, going to hair and dental appointments, tweaking class schedules, gathering supplies, getting in as many hugs and belly rubs with the dogs as they can, and requesting their favorite meals before returning to dorm food. Finally, I watch as their overpacked car leaves our driveway. And there they go, assumed into college life once again.
You’d think that after saying goodbye twice over the past two years, that the third time would be easier, like learning to ride a bike. Once you do it for the first time, each time after becomes effortless. Instead, saying goodbye and letting go remain difficult. Even though my husband and I couldn’t be prouder of them, we are heartsick at their leaving once again.
And, yet, I completely understand this movement of time and the reasons they must embrace every moment away from us. I understand it, because I used to be that 20-year-old who longed to leave home again, to “adult” as they say. In 1992, I knew my parents mourned my leaving for college. Somehow, it made me want to leave all the more. I recognized and felt the tension of their desire that I stay and my strong desire to leave. And I knew, almost better than my parents, that I must leave if I ever wanted to become a whole person.
Wholeness. It makes me think of Jesus’ mother, Mary.
I tend to take for granted the idea of Mary’s Assumption into heaven. And I found there isn’t a lot written about it. This dogma (doctrine) of the church was officially taught by Pope Pius XII in his 1950 encyclical, Munificentissimus Deus. It recognizes Mary’s participation in her Son’s Resurrection, whereby she was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory at the end of her earthly life. In this, we anticipate our own resurrection. We are prompted to face all that is ahead of us, wholly and with full participation.
I find this doctrine to be profoundly meaningful. Not only do I want my children to embrace their lives in the here and now, body and soul, but so must I.
So must I say goodbye for the third time and, while missing them with every fiber of my being, I must face my own life with arms wide open. Body and soul. All of me. All in.
A week before Jake and Samantha left for school, my husband, Doug, had a “moment” while he was driving us home from a backpacking trip. I have to admit that I was more concerned with relieving him of driving than enjoying the ride, so to speak. It wasn’t until after we got home that he explained his hesitancy to stop driving. Looking back, I know exactly what he meant. He had immersed himself in that space with our family in the car, physically together, intermittently snoozing and talking. Listening to the twins’ bantering over some show, laughing, voices raised, then silent again. For four hours we traveled in close proximity and Doug kept driving, ignoring the fact that he should probably give up the wheel in order to log on and answer messages for work. He wanted to wholly experience the present moment, body and soul, knowing it was a gift. After Doug mentioned his experience in the car, I realized that all of us had fully immersed ourselves as the miles passed by, even if we weren’t conscious of it.
What is it about road trips that pull people together? In the hilariously entertaining and animated movie, “The Mitchells vs. The Machines,” the subplot revolved around the daughter’s desire to leave for college in order to pursue her dreams and find her people. The dad, trying desperately to connect with his daughter before she leaves, announces that the whole family will drive across the country to her college in one last epic trip together. I couldn’t help but resonate with the heartbreak and angst the parents felt as they faced the inevitable separation. They feared more than just a momentary departure, but ultimately that their daughter would never return home or that their relationship would never be the same again. They wondered if she would forget all that she had learned from them. Would they recognize her if and when she came home? Would she still want them in her life?
As a parent, fears can run deep, at least at the beginning of a transition. I’ve realized, though, that we’ve done a pretty good job raising our children. We’ve loved and taught them throughout their early years to be their best selves, to respect themselves and others, to work hard, to know their need for God, to be curious and ask questions, to listen well and value living in and enjoying the moment. All of these things can help them to live their lives as a whole person.
In the end, the Mitchell family learned how to help one another live as whole human beings. They realized that they could learn to understand one another and treasure each one’s unique gift to the family. They could trust that the other members of the family would love them no matter what, even when it was time to move on.
Faced with an empty house each year presents endless opportunities for Doug and me to decide how we can live our lives fully without the daily, happy distraction of our children’s activities. We have a choice to either continually long for their next trip home or to find meaning and purpose in our own lives. In reality, it’s a mixed bag, but as long as we can remember Andy Dufresne’s words in “Shawshank Redemption,” we can steer clear of despair. “Get busy living or get busy dying.” Remarkably, we are finding purpose and hope even though we miss our kids.
For my part, a routine of exercise, prayer and writing (not always in that order) helps me to live deliberately and with purpose. I find that if I take time for those things during the day, the evenings allow for preparing and sharing dinner with Doug and being fully present with one another. Ideally, I approach my life as fully as possible – with my body, soul and mind. Don’t get me wrong, though. We enjoy the diversion of streaming a show or two. Altogether, I do my best to wholly give of myself to God, to others and to my personal relationships. And I can only do this if I intentionally approach each day by embracing a full life one day at a time.
What a gift to meditate on the Assumption of Mary, celebrating a woman who gave her body, soul and spirit to God. Assumed into heaven – wholly transformed and fully surrendering her life to God’s will. And she couldn’t have done that had she never let go of her son who left his family of origin in order to walk the countryside and teach God’s truth. She would have been perplexed at his odd and sometimes shocking behavior (Luke 2:46-52) and worried about what others in her community would think of him and her and Joseph as parents. She would have heard what others said of him. Ultimately, Mary witnessed Jesus’ suffering and death–she stood at the foot of the cross, present to her son, mourning him. Blessed Mother Mary was present, body and soul. By witnessing Jesus’ full surrender to God’s will, Mary reflected back to him her own surrender. In a moving prayer, “Before the Crucified One” by Caryll Houselander, we can enter into Mary’s transformation.
Lord,
wholly surrendered
to the will of Your Father
and wholly identified with us,
Lord nailed to the cross by Your own choosing,
teach us to obey,
to accept,
to bow to the will of God…
Amen
We are all invited to the glory of Christ’s Resurrection if we wholly give ourselves to this life, however imperfectly, following God’s invitation to transformation. And so I can gladly give the twins a big hug and let them go, for much awaits them and me and Doug.
Blessed Mother Mary, pray for us.
Call to Action: In the comments below, reflect on what speaks to you from this blog post. What does it mean to go “all in” in this life?
Song for Contemplation: Recently, my daughter, Sam, and I went to see The Chicks in concert. The song, “Wide Open Spaces,” resounded in my heart knowing my kids would be going back to school in just a few weeks.
