"Significant stress can lead to shedding and hair loss," board-certified dermatologist Christine Shaver, M.D., FAAD, of Bernstein Medical Center for Hair Restoration in New York City tells mbg. I think all I can add to these is a heartfelt AMEN.To keep the answer simple: Yes, stress can cause hair loss. Her latest post, A Blessing when The World is Ending, from her book Circle of Grace (which I can highly recommend along with her other work) seems to dovetail beautifully with the lyrics above.įrom Circle of Grace © Jan Richardson. Someone who frequently does this for me is fellow priest, author and artist Jan Richardson who blogs at The Painted Prayerbook. These gifts are often costly, self-sacrificial baring of souls. I am always so grateful for the gift of words or art that others offer, putting pain, blessing and healing into words or form that speak in a profound way. Too many stars to let the darkness overwhelm me With those whose hearts are tired, & with those whose hope is lost.įor those who sleep and for those who can not rest.įor those with fearful hearts, and for those whose hearts are angry.įor those whose courage is waning and for those whose strength is growing.įor those who suffer, and for those who keep vigil. With those places in my being where the light has grown dim. With my heart’s eternal questions, and with my deep longings. Too many stars to let the darkness overwhelm me. Waiting without agenda for things I can not change, Waiting with purpose for who I will become, Then I shall see in the dark, though for answers I do not look.Īnd leaning into the song of darkness, I wait for You. This nurturing room for my restless spirit. Take me down to the holy darkness to Love’s roots. It turns out they are the lyrics to a song on an album called Take Heart by Velma Frye, co written with Macrina Wiederkehr. Three years ago today, on the first anniversary of this young man’s death, I came across a timely prayer poem that spoke deeply to me and I offer it here. The darkness of grief and the darkness of unknowing. At its simplest, and from personal experience I know this to mean Love that sits with us in the dark. One of the most famous prophetic descriptions of Jesus comes from Isaiah 53, describing him as ‘ A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief‘. It is hard not to be overwhelmed by the darkness. Grief that will go on – long long after the news focus has moved on. Each candle burning, each flower laid representing a precious individual gone from the lives of those who loved them. Every day it seems we wake up to hear of yet more horrors and violent atrocities with communities and families ripped apart by terrorism and hate crimes. Sudden death of any cause has the same seismic effects on hearts and lives.
In the last few weeks I have heard of at least four, one only yesterday. Over sixty children lose their lives in this way each year in the UK, and is the third largest cause of child deaths. Innocent fun turning fatal in the blink of an eye. Alas my heightened sensitivity has zeroed in on news reports over and over each summer of young lives lost by drowning. How I wish this was a rare, exceptional event, as no family should have to face this horror. It can only be slowly and painfully rebuilt. The sudden tragic death of a teenager inevitably causes profound shock waves not unlike a major earthquake within the microcosms of family, village and school. From the television interview to the funeral and beyond into the weeks, months and years of heartbreak and adjustment to loss that followed, it was my tender privilege to travel with the family and the community. Racing to the scene, talking to traumatised youngsters and worried villagers as we waited the many hours until the emergency services found and recovered his body. Days into my curacy, I was pitched headlong into this unfolding drama of loss almost from the first moments. Today, four years on, I watch from a distance as they gather around his grave, my heart heavy for their grieving. They could never have foreseen that the day would end in tragedy, with a 15 year old lad losing his life beneath the surface of this river. A hot July day, the first of the school holidays and youngsters kicking up their heels, their lives and the long lazy days of Summer stretching ahead of them. It is hard to believe that such peaceful place of quiet beauty can swallow a life.
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