'I could never'

How many times do we tell ourselves what we cannot do? How many times have you shut down an idea or possibility because you considered yourself unskilled or incapable?

Over the years I have heard scores of people utter those three words that limit and restrict: 'I could never' As a teacher of the last 17 years, I regularly hear people inhale deeply, watch them grimace slightly and utter these very same words. Now, for me... I could never really understand the motivation: I mean, as a teacher, we model our beliefs and faith in the young by encouraging and supporting them. To -even momentarily-consider not being able to teach, inspire, encourage or support would be to admit defeat and let so many young people down.

I realise that I'm meandering about what I intend to share with you this week, and this is intentional in part. But let me get to the point...

Today, I held a funeral service. The chapel was filled with friends, neighbours, colleagues, and family and for a brief moment as people walked in, I almost cracked. I held a deep breath and pushed my empathy aside as I glanced at the faces of the utterly bereft and saw the sadness they struggled to hold onto lest they brought down other members of the gathering. This deep sadness scares us, and that's absolutely normal. We have an innate tendency to avoid pain and suffering and it's because of this that we limit ourselves.

It used to be that people would tell me, that they 'could never' about teaching. And I, in turn would tell those people that the young need us to. The young need us to care.

And now... I'm at a stage in my own life where I recognise that it's not just the young that needs us to care, it's every single one of us.

While I admit that my time in education is coming to an end, my time in pastoral care, remains just as strong. I still want to encourage, support, guide and hold hands in times that challenge and threaten to break us. It's because of this need in me that I have chosen a second stage in life: a career in celebrancy. Now, sometimes I will be able to share in your joy, but I expect I will more frequently be called upon in times of trouble and difficulty and nothing gives me a greater sense of pride than to be that person for you.

I'll gladly risk my own tears for you if it helps you. I will gladly put myself in the positions that might be uncomfortable, sad or difficult if it means I can give you what you need.

So, ultimately: my reflections after today's events are thus: I am deeply honoured to be able to give people a little of what they need and am happy that 'I can'. Talking with the crematorium staff and the funeral director made it very clear that we all need someone 'at the end of the day' and each of the three of us felt it a privilege to be the people you call upon.

There are many people doing the difficult jobs: giving the care, support and the encouragement that just as many of us profess to be unable to do. Carers, refuse collectors, funeral arrangers, shopkeepers and more... All doing work that we 'could never do'

Aren't we lucky?

Anyway, Love You Lots

K