Sadness and peace

This has been a week of death. Some weeks are like that.
Actually, every week is like that, but some weeks, the sadness gangs up in personal ways. This has been one of those weeks. Deaths in the families of several clergy, the death of a young clergywoman after a 20 month fight with brain cancer, sad clergy at the death of beloved members. In the context of all that, Elizabeth Edwards' death left me dissolved in tears.
I don't know Elizabeth Edwards any better than anyone else in the public. But every single day I thank God for the gift of books. And her books, Saving Graces and Resilience touched me deeply. After reading her books, I, like thousands of others, felt very close to her.
Several things I already knew.
My pastoral experience already taught me that the death of a child is life's most devastating grief. I am grateful I haven't experienced that horror. But, too many times, I have walked with parents as their pastor during this particular nightmare. There are many things in life that hurts. But the death of a child cuts to the core with a different vengeance. Her book Saving Graces is exquisite, poignant, wrenching and inspiring. There is no pain like the loss of a child.
But the infidelity of a marriage partner -- especially infidelity in the public eye--has got to rank right up there with the most agonizing and humiliating of life's setbacks. I don't underestimate the depth of grief that comes from the death of a husband. But there is a finality of death that doesn't include having to constantly re-live rejection, self-doubt, speculation and criticism of others and the emotional ravages of betrayal.
Then there's cancer. Especially cancer that is beyond cure. Just the diagnosis and fight of cancer is the challenge of a lifetime. The combination of those overwhelming life challenges is monstrous. Her determination to make a positive impact under the weight of all that adversity is stunning. No wonder the title of her book is Resilience. She certainly exemplified the topic.
Her death at such a young age broke my heart. And then, as I lived into the news of her death, I realized that, in death, she receives a peace and wholeness that she could never have had in this life. Her faith, her love for life and her passionate love for her children was as persistent and unrelenting as her optimism. But the glare of the public eye honed in on her pain, vulnerabilities and liabilities made it unlikely/impossible for her to ever have had peace. May you be in perfect and complete peace and wholeness, Elizabeth. Enjoy in fullness that you are God's beloved daughter and that you made an impact for the good in overwhelmingly difficult circumstances.
A friend of a friend (Holly Stencil) wrote this stunning tribute: "They will be able to say that she stood in the storm and, when the wind did not go her way -- and surely it has not--she adjusted her sails. Thank you for your gracefulness, Elizabeth Edwards." Maybe that is the best of all definitions of success: to be able to be graceful in the face of adversity.