Journeys and the Friends Who Make Them Possible

The writer Judith Dupré suggests that “life is organized by both steps and belief.”  Along the way, we get to these strange intersections, intersections we can't quite cross or navigate by ourselves.  Our best intentions are not enough.  Our skills and instincts aren't sufficient for the task.  

At just these moments, we depend on a friend, a mentor, a teacher, a partner--someone who can "believe us" to the other side.  There’s just no other way to grow.  “We have to leave the safety of what’s familiar and take that leap of faith.”  And it’s then, Dupré says, that someone opens a door to friendship, someone shows us the light, someone believes us across the intersection, and over to the other side.  The New Testament story of Elizabeth and Mary comes to mind: how Elizabeth embraced Mary and honored Mary and created space for courage and vocation. 

Margaret Ostrander Rose has played just such a part in my life.  When I was a young minister, she "believed" me through more than a few seasons of doubt and confusion.  When I questioned my capacity for leadership, she enthusiastically insisted that I had it.  When I despaired for my inexperience, she enthusiastically valued my innocence.  And when I grew into the profession, bit by bit by bit, she acted not in the least surprised.  She "believed" me into a calling I sensed, but questioned.  And I will be grateful for this, for as long as I live.  Whatever service I offer to the world, I owe to Margaret and others like her.

Now, as the leaves turn and fall settles in the west, Margaret's on a journey of her own, a journey from light to light, a journey from grace to grace, a journey from the communion of saints on earth to the communion of saints eternal.  Her dear family and friends are gathered, even today, even now, to "believe" her over to the other side.  Their love, their tenderness, their tears, their songs: these are the only gifts she needs along the way.  I am so sure their companionship and touch are sweet reminders of the timelessness of faith, the warmth and light that waits beyond all we know.

I'm not quite sure I'll get to Seattle to add my touch to theirs.  But I want the Rose family to know that I "believe" too.  I "believe" in the enduring decency of their love for one another.  I "believe" in Margaret's expansive and curious and compassionate God.  And I "believe" her journey through our lives, into our lives, from our lives to other lives--I believe it's holy and sacred and neverending.

Where she's going, we will all go at last.  And the singing and the feasting and the serving and the loving will never end.