The Upper Room

Sacred Sorrows welcomes Kim Steinberg, contributing writer and recent Sacred Sorrows Tucson retreatant. Kim and her husband, Si, live in the small high desert city of Boise, Idaho. Kim enjoys tromping through the foothills, walking by the river, and traveling to places unknown. Kim lost her oldest son, Kieran, January 20, 2023.

I wake with the what if's and if only's running through my mind, tears close to the surface. I pray, "Glory be to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. World without end. Amen." The prayer reminds me that Christ lives in the past, present, and all my tomorrows. I stumble out of bed and navigate to the kitchen where I set the teapot boiling.

Picking up the hot mug, I light a candle and get comfortable in my usual prayer spot,

carefully placing the cup on a coaster my husband gifted me for Christmas. It says, "Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire." Apathy tries to creep in and I close my eyes to say the Memorare, "I fly unto thee...my mother, to thee do I come, before thee I stand." I sit quietly for a few moments, listening, waiting.

Suddenly I see Mary and the apostles grieving the loss of Jesus, sitting Shiva together, Mary missing her son. Grief is about the loss of physical presence: feeling his arms wrapped around them, watching him breathe in his sleep, sharing his joys and sorrows. They missed the Jesus who spoke to crowds, healed the lame and performed miracles in his Father's name but they must have ached for the loss of the man and friend they loved, the son she adored.

Curious about what the followers of Jesus did in the days immediately following his death, I open to Acts, Chapter 1:13, "They went up to the upper room, where they were staying. Peter and John and James and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James the son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot and Judas the son of James."

They mourned together and carried the good news together. It must have been bittersweet remembering Jesus, his suffering at the end, how he rose again, how some of them abandoned him.

My thoughts return to the women I met on the recent Sacred Sorrows retreat, their suffering, their sadness, the understanding in their eyes, the compassion in their voices. I read the next line and am stunned that my imaginings are in fact accurate.

"All these with one accord devoted themselves to prayer, together with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus and with his brethren."

Mary spent her time with the other women but the apostles were her family too. They shared faith, sorrow, hope. My nature is to mourn alone. I don't want anyone to see the raw emotion, the terrible emptiness that grips my heart, the loss of control. The word that stands out is "together."

This is what God wants of me, to be with others in the midst of my sorrow. And I am grateful for all of you, the grieving mothers and grandmothers of Sacred Sorrows.