SPIRIT MATTERS: Friendship carried on the Breath of God

This week I have been listening to one of my favorite worship songs, “Breathe,” by Michael W. Smith, playing it repeatedly on YouTube.

When it returns to my orbit, I can’t get enough of it.

My friend Joyce Kmetz first introduced me to this song some years ago, as we were planning for our annual We are the Church retreat at St. Michael the Archangel parish in Streator. Joyce and I were co-assistant spiritual directors for the program for many years, although in truth, Joyce did most of the work in pulling the weekend together.

Apart from WATCH, we were close spiritual friends. We spoke on the phone regularly, and we had attended many retreats together over the years. I certainly owe a debt of gratitude to her for introducing me to deepening experiences of the infinite power of the Holy Spirit to transform lives.

That year, we were both also going to give talks during the weekend. Typically at the end of the talk, the speaker includes a song to drive home the message they want to impart on the audience.

One week during our team formation, Joyce and Bill McKim, who was the board adviser for the program, played “Breathe.”

It was the first time I heard it and I was instantly intoxicated.

It seemed to go on forever….

Pretty much before the song even finished, I expressed interest in using it for my end-of-talk music.

Joyce and Bill looked at each other, and Bill gently said Joyce was already going to use it for her talk.

Although I was a bit disappointed I wouldn’t be able to use it, I was just glad it would be played that weekend.

I learned a lot from both of them – Bill and Joyce – through the years. Their faith enriched my faith. Their devotion strengthened my devotion. Their commitment strengthened my commitment. Their hard work spurred my desire to do my part right.

This week was the anniversary of Bill’s death from pancreatic cancer. It took him fast. And, with him pretty much being the backbone of the program, it left the continuation of it uncertain for a short time.

Joyce and Bill worked closely together behind the scenes in planning parts of the weekend. And when Bill died, Joyce was determined the program WOULD continue. She was passionate about the program in so many ways, especially for how it is a deep renewal for the faith life of so many. She doggedly did whatever she had to do to ensure the program went off without a hitch. And, when there were times that the rest of us just weren’t sure we should go forward, she insisted that we should.

Earlier this year, (although it seems a lifetime ago) we had our WATCH weekend planned and ready to go in March, when COVID struck. The day before the weekend was scheduled to start, the team gathered to decide whether or not to go forward with the program this year. Ultimately, it was out of our hands, as all activities in the Peoria Diocese were immediately put on hold.

I know Joyce was heartbroken.

A few months later, Joyce was hospitalized, and within several weeks, she unexpectedly died. I am thankful now that I was able to speak to her once on the phone, although I had no way of knowing that would be the last time we engaged with one another on this side of eternity.

Due to other circumstances, I was unable to attend Joyce’s visitation, and her funeral Mass was private.

So in many ways, her death is still not real to me. Although I haven’t seen or spoken to her in months, it hasn’t registered with me that she is no longer here – it is as though she is just on an extended vacation somewhere.

This all has made me aware of how important it is for us to have rituals in place to say goodbye to our loved ones.

Those who have lost family members and friends during the pandemic, have had to say goodbye in a largely scaled back way. And many people, due to age, or illness themselves, have not been able to take part in that final goodbye to their loved ones.

Not being able to properly find closure leaves a strange emptiness in one’s life, separate from the usual hole that is created by the person’s absence.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I stopped believing in them a long time ago. So with this week being the anniversary of Bill’s death, which has lead me to revisit memories of Joyce, I have no doubt I was drawn to this song for a reason.

It speaks deeply to my soul, but, as is often the case in spiritual matters, I cannot adequately explain why. That “why” is left to be an intimate experience between my heart and the divine that dwells within, just as it was an intimate experience between Joyce’s heart and the divine that dwelled within her.

Here are partial lyrics to “Breathe.” Seeing them on the page does nothing in comparison to experiencing Smith’s performance, and it is a testament to his talent as a singer and songwriter that it speaks profoundly on both a universal and individual level to people.

This is the air I breathe

Your holy presence living in me

This is my daily bread

Your very word spoken to me

And I I’m desperate for you

And I I’m lost without you

In many ways, Joyce’s faith and example lead me to a deeper experience of the divine reality in me and all around me, the Reality with which she is now infinitely in complete communion.

This blessed song only serves to remind me of that, and to remain, always, forever, grateful for Joyce, her faith, and her ongoing presence and influence in my life.

SPIRIT MATTERS is a weekly column that examines spirituality. Contact Jerrilyn Zavada at jzblue33@yahoo.com to share how you engage your spirit in your life and community.