Memories are as much a curse as they are a blessing. My memories aren’t just in my mind, they are in every cell and calling them to my consciousness can cause every cell to ache.
How many days have been laced up with upset? I remember in my arms and shoulders the tensions of the past. Will I ever relax?
Memory can take me deep inside to a place of reflection. With all the experience that I am, I change memory into something else. Sometimes I wonder if I remember correctly, but my body knows. It remembers.
For more than a year, upset has taken center stage. How can it be that so much was lost? I wasn’t prepared even though I wanted to be.
My devotional today sorted this for me, reminding my cells that ALL things are of the Father. Will I only accept the good and blindly turn away what’s difficult? How will I know the heights of joy without the depths of sorrow to compare?
Sorrow wells up in waves that overtake my breathing; I feel stifled, but then I am reminded of bliss – the sounds of my children’s voices both today and from the distant past – how can there be sorrow when I have the three of them and all their memories to cherish?
I quiet my tears with peaceful breath and I am calmed.
ALL things are a blessing and a curse, for without the contrast of opposites, experience would be dulled by that which has no contours and thus cannot be compared or sorted.
Memory is yet another way of knowing our past, our present and our dreams simultaneously at once, flowing through time to make up this life.
Lost for a moment in grief, I return to my home inside. It’s been turned upside down these past months, but each day when I return, I attempt to put things into their new places, into their new perspectives. The act itself is healing and as I heal the curse of memory fades and I smile as I remember.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Betrayal
Betrayal came into my life at a very young age.
I was four years old when a male babysitter convinced me to place his penis in my mouth. I was reluctant to do so when he asked, my argument being he would "pee." He promised not to do that and so I complied with his request. He then urinated in my mouth.
The horror of that moment still lives in me today. Nothing can prepare a child for the betrayal that comes from a trusted caretaker.
When I was eight years old, I traveled with a beloved family friend, "Aunt Cindy", to Buffalo, New York, where we would visit her sister and brother-in-law. While there, one afternoon the brother-in-law took me in the car to pick up lunch. Back in those days the front seat of the car was a bench seat with no center console.
When we first left the house, I was sitting next to the passenger door with plenty of space in-between us, but when we had driven a ways, he asked me to slide over and sit next to him. The moment he made the request, I sensed something was wrong. Reluctantly, I slid across the seat towards him.
What happened next never should have happened. I remember some of it. I remember telling him I didn't like what he was doing. I remember when it was over, sliding back to sit next to the door again. Years would pass before I would tell.
Even as I write these words today, my body is racked with fear from these memories.
Betrayal comes in many forms and can leave open wounds, scabs and scars across our lives. No one is immune.
For as much as I have been betrayed, I have been loved many more times over.
I've worked hard to heal from my past and to recognize my own wounds and scars and how they frame my world. I've learned to trust and to not be afraid. I have loved.
To me, this is the essence of the Light conquering the darkness.
I was four years old when a male babysitter convinced me to place his penis in my mouth. I was reluctant to do so when he asked, my argument being he would "pee." He promised not to do that and so I complied with his request. He then urinated in my mouth.
The horror of that moment still lives in me today. Nothing can prepare a child for the betrayal that comes from a trusted caretaker.
When I was eight years old, I traveled with a beloved family friend, "Aunt Cindy", to Buffalo, New York, where we would visit her sister and brother-in-law. While there, one afternoon the brother-in-law took me in the car to pick up lunch. Back in those days the front seat of the car was a bench seat with no center console.
When we first left the house, I was sitting next to the passenger door with plenty of space in-between us, but when we had driven a ways, he asked me to slide over and sit next to him. The moment he made the request, I sensed something was wrong. Reluctantly, I slid across the seat towards him.
What happened next never should have happened. I remember some of it. I remember telling him I didn't like what he was doing. I remember when it was over, sliding back to sit next to the door again. Years would pass before I would tell.
Even as I write these words today, my body is racked with fear from these memories.
Betrayal comes in many forms and can leave open wounds, scabs and scars across our lives. No one is immune.
For as much as I have been betrayed, I have been loved many more times over.
I've worked hard to heal from my past and to recognize my own wounds and scars and how they frame my world. I've learned to trust and to not be afraid. I have loved.
To me, this is the essence of the Light conquering the darkness.
Monday, October 3, 2011
An Open Door
Revised 10/8/2011
Yesterday when I arrived at church with a car full of food for a luncheon after services, I was dismayed to realize I had forgotten my church key. There was plenty of time to go home and fetch my key, but there was no energy in me for that.
I stepped out of my car with a sunken heart, purse and car key in hand. I locked the car door and walked to the side of the church hoping to see if perhaps someone had already arrived. No one was there. It's early.
Figuring on a wait, I turned and walked towards a little bench in front of our church. There I would sit and wait for someone else to arrive, hopefully with a key. Disappointment would keep me company.
As I walked towards the bench, I looked at the fellowship hall just beyond with it's locked door. Maybe it's open. Suddenly I felt the possibility of the door being unlocked. It shouldn't be open.
I walked towards the door and up the few steps - dismay now replaced with hope - and placed my hand on the knob.
With one turn the door swung open and I entered the sanctuary.
Chuckling to myself, I returned to my car to retrieve my groceries. I couldn't help but notice a bounce in my step and a smile on my heart.
Amen.
Yesterday when I arrived at church with a car full of food for a luncheon after services, I was dismayed to realize I had forgotten my church key. There was plenty of time to go home and fetch my key, but there was no energy in me for that.
I stepped out of my car with a sunken heart, purse and car key in hand. I locked the car door and walked to the side of the church hoping to see if perhaps someone had already arrived. No one was there. It's early.
Figuring on a wait, I turned and walked towards a little bench in front of our church. There I would sit and wait for someone else to arrive, hopefully with a key. Disappointment would keep me company.
As I walked towards the bench, I looked at the fellowship hall just beyond with it's locked door. Maybe it's open. Suddenly I felt the possibility of the door being unlocked. It shouldn't be open.
I walked towards the door and up the few steps - dismay now replaced with hope - and placed my hand on the knob.
With one turn the door swung open and I entered the sanctuary.
Chuckling to myself, I returned to my car to retrieve my groceries. I couldn't help but notice a bounce in my step and a smile on my heart.
Revelation 3:8 "I know thy works; behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for you have a little strength, and have kept my word, and have not denied my name."
Amen.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The Agony of Jesus
Did you know the word "agony" appears only one time in the King James Bible? I didn't.
When I read this today, I was surprised. I checked my Strong's Concordance to ensure the accuracy of the statement and, sure enough, there on page 28 in the concordance, listed only once, was agony.
The Greek word for agony is agonia meaning a struggle (properly in Greek, the state of being in a struggle) or figuratively anguish or agony. Agonia derives from agon which means conflict, effort or contention.
It seems obvious that this word is more than just "agony" in the English meaning - it is a struggle filled with anguish and conflict and contention.
So where is it that this one word appears in the Bible? It appears in Luke 22:44, but let's look at the entire passage to get the full story behind this one scripture and allow me to set up the scene.
Jesus has just shared the last supper with the twelve disciples and has told the disciples one of them will betray him. Now, after the meal has ended, Jesus, with His disciples following, goes to the garden to pray. Here are the scriptural passages that follow:
Luke 22:41-44
My study Bible adds this note:
Jesus knew His destiny and knew what was coming and He struggled in agony and anguish over it. He even prays for the "removal of this cup" from his path, but then adds "not my will, but thine, be done." As many times as I have read this passage, today is the first time that I understand the agony of Jesus in this moment.
This week I have struggled with a personal issue - one that has born anger and hatred within me for more than a decade. Today, a particular event brought that anger and hatred to a head and I found myself weeping with complete and utter frustration. I am helpless in these circumstances and so I must surrender to them, but my heart resists with clenched fists.
In my frustration I turned to my husband, my mother and my Bible for comfort. I was blessed by the conversations with my husband and mother and then further blessed by my Bible in coming into this knowledge today regarding agony.
The Lord knows my struggle (He knows yours too) and has offered me comfort in showing me more clearly the agony of His own struggle as He walked to the cross on my (and your) behalf. I am truly humbled.
I've wiped away my tears and I'm wiping away my anger and hatred one small swipe at a time. It's a process - I get that - one that I have agreed to and one that I am surrendering to one unclenched finger at a time.
When I read this today, I was surprised. I checked my Strong's Concordance to ensure the accuracy of the statement and, sure enough, there on page 28 in the concordance, listed only once, was agony.
The Greek word for agony is agonia meaning a struggle (properly in Greek, the state of being in a struggle) or figuratively anguish or agony. Agonia derives from agon which means conflict, effort or contention.
It seems obvious that this word is more than just "agony" in the English meaning - it is a struggle filled with anguish and conflict and contention.
So where is it that this one word appears in the Bible? It appears in Luke 22:44, but let's look at the entire passage to get the full story behind this one scripture and allow me to set up the scene.
Jesus has just shared the last supper with the twelve disciples and has told the disciples one of them will betray him. Now, after the meal has ended, Jesus, with His disciples following, goes to the garden to pray. Here are the scriptural passages that follow:
Luke 22:41-44
And Jesus was withdrawn from them about a stone's throw and kneeled down and prayed, saying,
"Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done."And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And being in agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.
My study Bible adds this note:
Jesus is borne up in His hour of greatest need, when He must intercede not only for Himself but for His followers, who are about to leave Him in the lurch. Agony appears only here in the New Testament: it points to the intensity of Jesus' struggle. Surely Jesus wrestles, not so much with death itself, but with His own destiny to be made the sin-bearer for all mankind for all the ages. The punishment that had to be borne for our sins brings Jesus to His knees in anguish.
Jesus knew His destiny and knew what was coming and He struggled in agony and anguish over it. He even prays for the "removal of this cup" from his path, but then adds "not my will, but thine, be done." As many times as I have read this passage, today is the first time that I understand the agony of Jesus in this moment.
This week I have struggled with a personal issue - one that has born anger and hatred within me for more than a decade. Today, a particular event brought that anger and hatred to a head and I found myself weeping with complete and utter frustration. I am helpless in these circumstances and so I must surrender to them, but my heart resists with clenched fists.
In my frustration I turned to my husband, my mother and my Bible for comfort. I was blessed by the conversations with my husband and mother and then further blessed by my Bible in coming into this knowledge today regarding agony.
The Lord knows my struggle (He knows yours too) and has offered me comfort in showing me more clearly the agony of His own struggle as He walked to the cross on my (and your) behalf. I am truly humbled.
I've wiped away my tears and I'm wiping away my anger and hatred one small swipe at a time. It's a process - I get that - one that I have agreed to and one that I am surrendering to one unclenched finger at a time.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Answer Well
Answer Well
I weep for what was
Yearning for comfort I reminisce
and remember
If allowed,
I could stay here a very long time
But the past holds not my potential
only lessons that
when practiced
prepare me more
For the joys ahead and
the sorrows yet to come
How will I live my life yet lived?
The future is determined in
the smallness of each moment's choice
What shall I carry?
What shall I leave behind?
What shall I cherish?
What shall I protect?
In each moment
With each choice
We answer the questions
of life
Answer carefully.
Answer lovingly.
Answer well.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Panic
My first ever by line happened the week of June 21-27, 2007, in Santa Cruz's popular weekly publication, Good Times. I entered their annual 66 Words contest and submitted a short story containing only 66 words. I created the short story from a longer version written earlier that year at my first Holy Ink Writing Workshop and it's based on a true story about my two-year-old son. I was thrilled to see my first by line in print! Here's the story and a scan of the published page it appeared on that summer.
Panic
Panic swallows me as my toddler crawls towards a narrow storm drain opening. Lunging to stop him, I fail, and he disappears into the pipe. I try coaxing him back with my words. He only giggles. Seconds now take eternity. I remember I have his pacifier. Holding my breath, I offer it. Manipulated by desire, he takes the bait and crawls out. Holding him, I weep.
Panic
Panic swallows me as my toddler crawls towards a narrow storm drain opening. Lunging to stop him, I fail, and he disappears into the pipe. I try coaxing him back with my words. He only giggles. Seconds now take eternity. I remember I have his pacifier. Holding my breath, I offer it. Manipulated by desire, he takes the bait and crawls out. Holding him, I weep.
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