Gethsemane

Gethsemane

Written on Easter weekend, April 11, 2020. The thoughts were brewing on Good Friday.

Upon seeing a friend’s post of her picture of visiting the Garden of Gethsemane and her experience while being there – having an emotional realization – this is where Jesus went to pray, and this is where his betrayers came to find him – I reflected on what Jesus’ experience might be like. I also had a revelation…

Jesus went with a few of his closest disciples, his friends, to the garden to pray. I imagine the garden would be dimly lit from the moon. Likely, they would have seen shadows of trees and shrubs. There may have been an eerie feeling, or maybe more of a heavy feeling. It was probably a garden they knew well, so they knew where to go for some privacy. Jesus asked his friends to stay awake and watch while he moved a little further into the garden to pray on his own. I would venture, to also grieve. Grieve what he knew he would be losing. To grieve for the loss his friends and disciples would experience. To grieve for those who don’t understand. And to beg God that there would be another way. Jesus knew what was going to happen. Yet, he didn’t know exactly what the experience would be like. In the midst of knowing what was to happen, there was uncertainty. He pleaded with God to ‘take the cup’ from him if it was possible…. And, he was able to say, “not what I will, but what you will”. That takes courage. And faith to know that, even though he was about to go through the worst experience possible, it would, in the end, be for the best. It would be fulfilling his purpose.

Mark 14:36 ³⁶ And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

In the days preceding the night of anguish at Gethsemane, Jesus was letting his disciples know his time was nearing the end. Meanwhile, Jesus knew his disciple Judas had betrayed him. He also knew his dear friend and disciple Peter would deny knowing Jesus and told him so (to which Peter denied this would ever happen – and then denied knowing Jesus 3x before Jesus even died). Jesus and his disciples celebrated Passover and broke bread together. This is when Jesus shared the famous words, “This is my blood of the^[c] covenant, which is poured out for many. ²⁵ Truly, I say to you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

Fast forward to today. A time in our lives where things are uncertain. We are living in the midst of a worldwide pandemic – that may well have affected my father. That, according to worst possible projections for our province, one in three people will become infected, and with the best possible projections, much less but still a lot of people. In Canada, the worst possible scenario would lead to hundreds of thousands of deaths. The hope is only a few thousand.

Add to that, our own uncertain future. We never know the future, but we know tough times are ahead.

My husband lost his job for “undisclosed reasons”. That being said, will he be able to do what he is passionate about? Or will he need to do something that is “just a job” until the right thing comes along? Will he be able to tap into his creative juices and get back to making things again? And to mentor youth, and for those at risk of homelessness, be able to do something about preventing homelessness from even happening? I long to see him in a role where he is using his full potential and where it is evident to all this is where he should be. Also, my husband recently was informed he has something on his lung. It could have been there for years or could have been a result of his work-related injury last summer. Or it could be a new thing.

And what about our dad? Dad is in the hospital with a lot of medical issues going on – his kidneys aren’t working and he requires dialysis 3x per week, he has pneumonia plus one or two other infections. He is physically weak. He has taken a turn for the worse health-wise today. He is currently delirious (confused, having a hard time being able to process information) due to the infections. He is on some very strong medications and he is also immunocompromised. We hope and pray he will survive and get strong and healthier again. His cancer is not curable, but when he was diagnosed, doctors were hopeful he would still live a fulfilling life. However, we also know that everyone passes away when it is their time. This is an unknown for us, and something that is hard to think about.

I have been experiencing increased stress at work (although in some ways, working from home right now due to the COVID-19 pandemic has resulted in somewhat less stress and much less physical pain – likely a notable contributor to the stress I was experiencing). I have felt unappreciated, taken for granted, and misunderstood. I have also been feeling like it’s time to move on or to shift my role in some way. But to what or where? I’d love to tap back into my private practice and run some journaling groups to help people process what’s going on for them. I’d love to bring creativity and artwork to clients. I’d love to help people live well in all aspects. I’d love to do more teaching, research, and workshops. Is there a way to shift to the world of academia? Or a mix of academia and clinical practice? Is this the time? And if not, are we financially able to handle a period of time where my income is notably lower, especially if we need to move to Manitoba to be more of a support to family and so Kevin can get work in an area that God has called him. While I have significantly more experience now than when I lived in Manitoba before, it was extremely difficult for me to get work there. Stigma around disability was a big factor, with employers outright telling me that I didn’t deserve to get as much as someone without a disability or letting me go before I even started my shift when they saw me in person. I got a job via telephone interview, disclosed my disability, was still hired, but upon driving 5 hours and meeting them in person, I was told the job was given to someone else. I believe society has shifted in this regard. However, to what degree, in general, has this shift occurred?

The thought of living in Manitoba again is somewhat scary for me as well. The winter conditions have not been favourable to my health. My bones break easily if I slip and fall. The spring conditions are not good for my allergies. I know from experience, going back to a place I lived before comes with unrealistic expectations – hoping for the good things from before and knowing that things are different and will never be the same. Employment wise, I did best when I was self-employed. I controlled my hours and I advertised for clients. I had neat shorter-term positions I enjoyed like doing some teaching and research work. Living further away from family helped me develop perspective and forced me to take better care of myself. I was bullied a lot in my younger years by people in school and in the neighbourhood and, aside from a few folks, I have very few friends who still live in the Steinbach area where my family lives. Much of my growing up, most of my friends only were ‘friends’ with me when it was to their advantage – staying inside when it was cold out, their ‘current’ friends no longer wanted to be friends with them, etc. To me, Steinbach and area have been a place of pain for me, so the thought of moving to that area scares me a lot. Winnipeg has felt like home and was where I first worked towards being independent. Either way, this time if we move to Manitoba, I would be starting all over with my husband and we would be finding our new way there. Which is exciting in some ways. It’s also something we’ve never done together and will, inevitably, have some challenges along the way, as life always does. (Note this is not a negative statement).

And on the smaller end of things, but still important, if we move, are we able to take our dog with us that we have bonded with? A dog that has experienced significant trauma before we adopted her. She has also bonded with our downstairs housemates, as have we. They are like family to us and have been for the past few years. When our blood families were not able to be here for us, they were and continue to be. Leaving a family that has seen the good and bad from our past couple of years is hard for me to process. We have also developed some close friendships in Calgary. It is hard to think about saying good-bye. Yet, I’ve done that before and the relationships that matter stick. I have had the blessing of living in many different places and built friendships with people I still connect with – across the world. I can truly say I have friends that live from one end of the earth to the other. I am able to deal with the ‘good-byes’ when I see God leading in another direction.

So what can I learn from Jesus in Gethsemane?

• It’s ok to ask God to ‘take this cup’ from us – with the caveat – “Not my will, but yours be done”.  On the flip side, what is the possible outcome if that ‘cup’ is taken from us? Are the outcomes actually worse? I need to trust that God’s will is the best outcome.
• It’s important to pray, to seek God’s will … and to tell God how I feel.
•  It’s ok to be going through a hard time.
•  It’s important to have some time alone.
•  It’s important to lean on dear friends.
•  Ultimately, it is important to follow through with my purpose – whatever that is. Maybe I need to figure out what that is, or maybe I know what it is and need to explore a little deeper to bring that to the surface. Maybe that means keeping on going until that is revealed.

Bottom line, I know that God is in control and I need to rest in that. I know that we’ve been feeling like we have been at a transition point for some time now. Maybe it’s an opportunity to look forward to what is to come.