Not in the Mood

Anyone who has lived in L'Arche Belfast can hear Thomas's voice declaiming this well-worn phrase. Today, I feel like shouting it from the top of Cavehill. L'Arche, we say, is about human existence, making the world more human. Unfortunately, some days that means making oneself more aware of the constantly changing world in which we live and the unchanging nature of Love.

Today, I am not in the mood for what awaits me, and we aren't talking about emails, training certificates, cleaning toilets, or getting to the Post Office before it closes. We are talking about one of the seeming downsides of L'Arche: saying good-bye to people we've come to love.

Three years ago a friend left our community after a longish stint. We had a nice community lunch. Then, I laid in my bed, watching tears merge with the blue duvet cover and wondering if a lifetime of L'Arche would mean that eventually I could drown in farewell tears.
Obviously, I didn't meet my demise in that good-bye.

Today, once she gets her house clean, Mary is coming by to have a cuppa with us on her way out of town. It will be great to see her, if I can keep the tears from blurring my vision too much. Noah and Octavia have drawn her little pictures to tuck into her cases. I wonder if blu tack is easy to come by in Brazil. I wonder if I'll see her again.

If we think back through our lives to all the 'Last Suppers', it is amazing that we can keep on going, keep on hoping that eventually we will be reunited with those we are asked to love and let go. Just today I'm not in the mood. I am hope challenged. But it seems, at times, that the hope springs out of the pain, not out of the fun days on the strand or the impromptu discos in the sitting room. The hope keeps us going so that we can welcome new faces and add to the facets of L'Arche that make it shine out as a sign of hope to the world.

So I guess I'll think of another Kerr-ism to get me through: 'quick as I can.' I hope I see Mary again quick as I can.