Everything In Between

On March 7th, I took my dear dad down to California so he could be held by companionship and beauty as he held his grief. We landed in Redding, and after a few days, we traveled with Craig down to the Carmel Valley, thirty minutes from the beautiful coastline of Big Sur.

I arrived back home last night and today am attempting to settle back into the rhythms of life and work. “How was your trip?” a friend asked. I wasn’t sure how to answer. It was everything, and everything in between. 

When it came to weather, we witnessed sunshine, snow, hail, rain, clouds, and a rainbow. When it came to emotions, we felt grief, laughter, tears, anxiety, anger, frustration, contentment, and deep joy. When it came to food, we ate a grapefruit the size of an acorn squash. We bought a halibut fish from an old lady on a boat and ate it for four meals straight, including breakfasts. My dad ate a hot dog as we sat on rickety folding chairs  watching a baseball game. We had fine wine and seafood overlooking the ocean. When it came to animal encounters, we stayed on a llama farm that had a giant tortoise outside our kitchen. We witnessed sea otters playing in the waves. We saw an octopus turn from red to pink to pale. During the one solitary walk, I had an encounter with a mountain lion. 

And then, south of the border, there are the politics. I had a dream, and in the dream I was comforting a desperate, weeping child who was asking, “Why is this happening?” Two days later, we ate dinner with some of Craig’s friends. Their daughter began to weep uncontrollably for the world—”why is this happening?” she said. I found myself on the floor, holding her hands, comforting her. We talked about hope, grief, fear, and the power of love. The trip was everything and everything in between. 

This Lenten journey, we are using Sanctified Art material entitled “Everything In Between”. In the introductory material, they wrote about “the messy middle” and the importance of learning to inhabit the spaces between binary thinking. As I return and reread the material, I feel discontent with this language of a messy middle. While I agree with the principle, I just don’t think the language is expansive enough. I don’t think we are called to live within the messy middle. I think life has this way of expanding us outwards until we must hold within us the experience of both polarities, as well as everything messy in the middle. We don’t live between joy and sorrow, we expand until we can hold both joy and sorrow. Despair and hope. Good and evil. And everything in between.

Someone asked me today if my heart was feeling tender and bruised. It was such a lovely, thoughtful question.I found myself not knowing how to answer that. Yes… and no… and yes. It was a great primer—I found myself spilling out a lot of words. At the end, I summarized it all by saying, “I feel as if my heart is holding many currents.” Now, a few hours later, I realize that I couldn’t answer her at first because my heart is just holding SO. MANY. THINGS.

We all, right now, are holding in our hearts so many things. The renewed bombings of Gaza. The trees cut down beside A Rocha. The unfurling green of spring leaves. The arrest by ICE of a young woman from BC. The joyful movement of children in a playground. The fear of tariffs. The sun, warm upon our backs. This deep knowing of good. This deep knowing of evil. It all belongs. It is what Jesus came to experience with us, the reality of our human existence. 

I long to slow down enough to be present to my own self with the same attentive compassion as I was present to my mom in her dying, and my dad in his grieving. I wish this for you as well. 

This Lent, may you slow down enough to be present to all that you are holding in your hearts. May we slow down enough to ask our friends questions, and listen to their rambling answers. May we slow down enough to ask God for help when we need it, and say thank you when we feel it. May we slow down enough to remember that God, within the expansiveness of great love, holds it all. Holds us all. And everything in between.

Deep peace and blessing,

Anne

Rev. Anne Baxter Smith
Pastor, Southpoint Church

New to Southpoint?

At Southpoint, it all begins with God’s love. Just as a plant grows, it receives sunshine, so we grow as we receive God’s love. At Southpoint, we are growing in our capacity to love God, ourselves, one another, and Creation.

We seek to be a community of grace that is intentional yet organic, spacious yet authentic, grace-filled yet accountable. * We are fully welcoming. *

We encourage relationships rather than run programs, yet we recognize the importance of intentionality and structure as we nurture life together.

As a community, we seek to put our love in action. We value helping out on Sunday mornings, sharing food, and showing up in hard times. We keep our church life simple so folk have time to build relationships with family, friends, and neighbours. We encourage folk to serve in tangible ways within the wider community. We rent space rather than own a building, allowing us to do more with less, supporting missions at home and abroad.

Curious to know more?

These six slides express what motivates our ministry (best viewed on a monitor). Here’s the bio of our Pastor, Rev. Anne Baxter Smith.

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