East of Providence is the title of the book I am not going to write. It is about how that which was significant in my life seemed, one after the other in a Job like way, to be taken away from August 4, 2011 until December 16, 2012.
Reflecting back on these losses, of sons from the free world to the unfree world, of my wife's health, of my job, of my ministry at St. Peter's, Milford, of my function as an Episcopal Priest, and of our home for 13 years, it seems that a whole life has become history - a port looked back upon longingly as the ship I am on sails away, never to return.
Finding God, living as a Christian, keeping faith, has been one of the greater challenges of my life during these times.
Now I find I wonder about every event, whether it is a sign of God's mercy, and whether I dare allow myself to believe it so.
My experience ranks rather middling in the trauma and loss scale of human experience. Yet it has introduced me to a different world, a different world view, a different kind of faith, and an appreciation for the profound gifts of grace which are offered and received from the most basic of human acts: kindness, generosity, encouragement, love.
Andrew
