Cleaning Up My Contacts

Since the time change, I find myself having a bit of extra time on Sunday mornings; since I tend to get up when it starts getting light anyway. This Sunday, in that extra time, rather than scrolling social media checking on my grandkids or feeding my news addiction, I found myself cleaning up my contact list on my phone.

It was sobering; shocking by how many had passed away. It was a weird feeling deleting their contact; almost like they passed away all over again. I went to church in my own personal fog and melancholy which took considerable time to clear. 

There was Ed T. Begay. He had served as the vice chairman of the Navajo tribe. An important person yet humble and unassuming; gentle, quiet, thoughtful, cared about others, never full of himself, loved spending time with his grandkids. Active in politics much of his life and active in his church, he was a mentor to all of us around him. His daughter, a member of our church, continues his legacy as a member of the Navajo tribe and involved in their government. She served on the building committee for our recent renovation and served on the most recent search committee for a new pastor. 

There was Jean Commetsevah who I had known for more than 30 years. She was part of the clan that were founding members of Bethany Christian Reformed Church. I first got to know her at the Fort Wingate church where I preached for a few years. She worked in the Indian hospital in town and was married to a Cheyenne Chief (Art) who was a counselor in the Fort Wingate BIA school. Jean loved to dance often in traditional Cheyenne attire. Art and I did the funeral for their grandson who died of SIDS. I remember at the grave site Art talked about this baby being in the grave for three days and then entering, what he called, the happy hunting ground and being taken care of by his deceased family and clan. At the end of the graveside service, Art and Jean handed out gifts to everyone from the child as a sign of the generous life he would have lived. 

Over the years I have lost numerous students either from natural causes or accidents, and some from violence or suicide. I found a number of them still in my contacts. This was clearly the hardest.  Several were ropes course facilitators. In our ropes course program we train student facilitators who would assist in leading groups on the course.

There was Alex. We just lost her last Spring. She died of an undiagnosed brain tumor. She came home from work sick and vomiting, went to bed and never recovered. I was called early in the morning and headed to the hospital to be with her family. Alex’s grandma was trained as a facilitator on our course. She was a juvenile probation officer in town and we had a program where kids on probation participated sometimes along with our local police department and our students would help facilitate them. Alex’s aunt who helped with probation was a trained facilitator as was her brother when he was a student at Rehoboth. It was a family tradition that she talked about continuing ever since elementary school. She was one of our best and dearly missed. 

Several other students were in my contacts because they kept in touch for various reasons. Elise, gifted, intelligent, one semester away from a BA in psychology. She spent a bit of time in my office; had regular panic attacks. She was so shy that she’d panic when called upon in class or needing to make a presentation or for no reason at all. As a staff we caught on quickly and would give her space to help as needed. Elise suffered her entire life with depression and finally gave in to it. It was a deep deep loss. 

There were a number of contacts I chose not to delete; at least not yet. My friend Anna who is in stage four cancer. She worked at Rehoboth for several years after which she became a Chapter (local Navajo government entities) officer entering her time of political involvement in Dilkon, Arizona. She was instrumental along with several other Navajo women in organizing a group which fought for water rights on the reservation and the rivers and streams feeding the reservation. The group continues to this day and is very instrumental in establishing policies to protect these rights. My wife and I visited Anna a few weeks ago. Dilcon is a beautiful area with volcanic plugs and mesas. Anna lives in her little house right at the foot of a pyramid formation which as a child she would hike up early in the mornings for prayer. Anna is gracious, selfless, giving and even though I do not see her much anymore, will be deeply missed and remembered. 

There were so many more that there was no time or space to talk about. Not here anyway.

During the Christmas season I usually read through the book of Isaiah ( I confess I skim some parts to get through more quickly). I am struck again this year by Isaiah’s call for justice and righteousness — so often reiterated in the words and life of Jesus. How often Isaiah exposes the futility of going through the motions of worship when one’s life is not consistent with it.

When I pray I often include the words of the Lord’s Prayer, Your kingdom come. . .on earth as it is in heaven.Our acts of justice, righteousness, and kindness are one means for that kingdom to be present on earth right now. It was present in the lives of those I mentioned above and the world was a better place because of them. 

I pray this season and all seasons for peace on earth; for justice to prevail, for God to protect the innocent, for leaders and governments to seek the welfare of their people and to protect our earth. I pray that every little act of kindness and love can not just touch the lives around us but ripple through this world to effect change and promote the Kingdom of God on our earth and in our time. And sometimes I simply pray, Come Lord Jesus! Come quickly to put an end to this madness. God bless you all in this season.

Header photo by thomas vanhaecht on Pexels