The Wound and the Light

I read this quote this morning and it hit this very sensitive, very deep and very destitute part of my heart.

"The wound is the place where the Light enters you." - Rumi

This is so true and so "typical", right?  The very place you hurt the most and have the most pain is the place that the light will enter...it is, in all actuality, the place that needs the light.  But, it's more than that...this statement exposes the truth about healing.  It's painful...  You have to think about the things that are raw and grating at your caustic skin.  You can't come at it from another angle in hopes that the healing will happen through a gentle osmosis that makes it's way to your more severe and wounded places.  No...  Its like having to clean a wound with alcohol...scrubbing out the bacteria that threatens to infect and break down your wellbeing.  At first it stings terribly; causing your body to curl into itself in hopes of fending off the agony that is invading your, no longer, composed existence.  You scream and you rage until the cool calm of tears soak over your tender places.  Your tears clean your most agonizing parts and sooth your throat that is sore from your cries.  You no longer cry tears of bitterness, but of new beginnings and your soul will be refreshed.

If only healing can be as sweet as it sounds.  Isn't it interesting that the most necessary things in life can also be the most grievous.  But, it is what it is...right?  Your fear keeps you from sleeping...but what will bring your soul rest?  Sleep.  Your guilt keeps you from laughing...but what will bring you joy?  Forgiveness.  Your pain keeps you from living...but what will bring you peace?  Acceptance that only comes from diving into the very thing that causes your pain.  In the beginning your memories will be devastating, but as you move along the path of healing, your memories will become a cooling salve that you will hold protectively and gently, but with utter resolve that they shall never leave your tangled fingers.  Healing isn't something that just happens...its intentional.  You work at it, you fail at it and when you don't think it will ever happen...its there.  As life goes on, you'll have moments of remission...but you've been there and you will never sink below the surface of the water that threatens to drown you.  You'll rise above and walk among the waves that have been calmed by the Great Comforter.  There is a Light that you can reach and the darkness can never extinguish it, so reach for it.  Don't let fear keep you from the light.  Don't allow the pain to define you...that is a liberty that only healing can own.  Expose your wounds to the Light and grip your memories so you can withstand the sting.

Delicate, Vulnerable and Simply Overwhelmed

My niece passed away on New Year's Day...She was 8 years old.  She was sledding and went into the road, she was laughing...so happy; she didn't even see the car.  One of my biggest strengths in my life has always been belief.  Belief that everything happens for a reason and that anything has the capacity for redemption...no matter how tragic.  I still believe that, but it's in these moments that I grip that belief with angry and sometimes bitter hands.  I refuse to believe that she left this world in vain...for something to end in nothing would be a true tragedy.  Something will always remain.  It's interesting...it's like my belief is what maintains the balance, even when what keeps me grasping at the fibers of belief seems so contrary.  So here I am, refusing to let go and accepting that we may never see the answer...and doing this with deepest sadness.  Although, I know, the tender edges bordering our wounds will one day grow into a gentle ache or longing.  For now we are delicate, vulnerable and simply overwhelmed.  Today my daughter found a scrapbook page that her and her cousin made together.  At the top it said their names, followed by "Best Friends".  My heart beat against my ribs, threatening to escape.  You feel blessed to see evidence of great and beautiful moments, angry for the future moments that are now stolen away, and utterly sad for the empty chair at the table.  You battle between optimism and despair, perseverance and the desire to just give in.  You never completely fall prey to the despair nor the idea of giving in...you can't...because life keeps on going and the world stops for no one...and you are responsible for more than just your sadness.  I imagine, as a mother or a father, your children are attached to your heart by, what appears to be, a fragile piece of string.  You come to learn that, this seemingly delicate string bears a strength that is paramount to any other...it's never meant to be severed.  So when your child is taken from you...the cord doesn't merely break, it takes a piece of you with it.  What I find devastatingly beautiful is...that piece of you didn't actually belong to you...it belongs to her and she had to take it with her.  She can't be separated from you...she needs you, so she took you with her.  She took the part reserved for her.  And, one day, she will replace that piece when you find her in your embrace once again.

So, having said all of that, I am asking those of you who stumble across this message, please pray for my sister and brother-in-law and their two other children.  Pray that they can make their way through this labyrinth of emotions, that they can take each step knowing that they are not alone and that God will catch them when they don't feel like they can walk any longer.  Pray that they can laugh freely and without regret. Pray for strength for tomorrow and the next day then the next and on and on.

“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” 
― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid

Questions, Questions, Questions

What are we willing to do with our lives?  How far are we willing to stretch?  I guess that depends on what we treasure...what we believe.  Is our belief based on a moment and then it fades with the passing breeze?  Do we stand on a firm system because it is all we know and we are afraid to step out into a world that may question us and we aren't sure if we can answer?  Or are we just standing in solidarity?  Are our beliefs based on bits and pieces of the world that we thought would fit best configured in a way that catered to our immediate wants and desires?  Or......is our belief based upon something that didn't only peek the very base of our nature but it became a very personal experience that not only affected us personally, but it also monumentally affected the world around us and how we viewed this place that was previously met in shades of gray...at least up until this point?  Belief is a funny thing and our willingness can be fickle.  When we are presented with a challenge, one that could truly cost us, are we willing to step out? On the other side of the spectrum, what part of our beliefs are we willing to push aside or hide in the shadows to achieve artificial rewards?  When we pick and choose what we want to believe, are we ever resting comfortably with adequate trust on something fully solid? Or are we slightly tense with the idea of this novice who built this tower we find ourselves in?  What are we really looking for?  What do we really want?  Do we want what is tangible or do we want something bigger that doesn't quite fit in the palm of our hands?

I think we don't ask ourselves enough questions.  I think we sometimes find a rhythm in our life and we start to get comfortable in our rhythm...the repetition can be soothing, if not monotonous.  Many of us find ourselves stuck in monotony and we have grown used to our complacency.  This doesn't mean we're lazy...it just means that we stopped asking questions.  We're still moving and working, playing and doing...but are we thinking?  Are we asking the good questions...the important ones?

Hmmmmmm

These really are the things that run through my head when I observe and experience the world around me.  I ask myself these questions.  I want to be constantly aware of the path beneath my feet.  This doesn't mean I think I'm doing anything right...I just want to keep myself in check.  I have built my tower, but that doesn't mean it's complete, or that it will ever be complete for that matter.  We all have to be carpenters, but where are we gathering our knowledge?  Are we feeding off of wisdom or are we cutting corners and just looking for immediate results?

Hmmmmmmm

Where does your willingness take you and what's the foundation it's built upon?  How much do you trust it?

Not Everybody Fits Under That Blanket

Have you ever noticed how we all like to make statements that we think will cover everyone?  Have you ever noticed that the blanket is way too small?  Unfortunately for those of us who make these blanket statements, which is more than likely all of us, we end up looking the fool.  We all get so caught up in trying to be everybody else, that we've forgotten about how we are all made uniquely.  We generalize one another, but not everyone fits under the same blanket.  Yes, there are similarities, familiarities, commonalities but there are also idiosyncrasies.  You know what is more attractive?  Our differentness...  Even if you don't like what is different, it doesn't matter...because that "different" may not belong to you, or me for that matter.  If we try to fit people groups under these blankets, that we've spent WAY too much time stitching together, we end up stripping each individual of what essentially makes them "them".  It doesn't matter what your blanket statement is about...whether you're blanketing a race together, homosexuals together,  political groups together, religious groups together or nationalities together...what you have done is created a faceless vessel that you can fill with whatever predetermined assumption that you wish to.  Do we know the individual's story?  Obviously not, otherwise we wouldn't clump them into a pile and cover them with a very minimal and jaded, if not completely false, blanket...  We've all been put there.  I don't care to be clumped into the "dumb blonde" category...but my hair color puts me there and I am treated as such.  I am a Christ follower and some choose to clump me with those who have a very narrow and legalistic point of view...but do I belong there?  I certainly hope not...  What about those close to me that are ridiculed, ostracized or just treated "differently" because of the blanket that they've been forced under?  We all want to be recognized for who we are...not who others think we are, based upon what they "believe" to be true but actually isn't so.  Yes, how we are born, where we are born, what we look like, what we believe and so on, makes us who we are...but not all by itself.  It takes all of it and our personal experiences to build the reflection that we see in the mirror.  So, I guess what I want to say is...if I have done this, I'm sorry.  May I forever be convicted of the reality of what doing so would mean to an individual.  Everyone has a story that is uniquely theirs and theirs alone...it is what makes them "them"...it is what makes me "me".  We should all be convicted of this reality, lest we find ourselves bound in a blanket of assumptions.

One

I know this man...mio marito...mio cuore (my husband...my heart).  The fibers of our souls are stitched together.  I know this because when we are separated, I can feel the gentle thread stretching and the strain on the seams.  Our love is not perfect, there is only one love that can withstand that title, but our love is precious in it's imperfections.  I could say that we know each other in the fullest, but that would be a farce.  We will discover one another every year we walk along our path...we will see more of the hidden, more of the light and dark.  This is where the amazing imperfection comes to find it's beauty...we will still love one another.  We will never unravel our fingers from the hand of the other.  We will stand firm in what we saw in our innocence...in the very beginning.  That he fills in where I lack and I do the same for him.  Then there are places where neither of us can fill the gap and God makes His home there.

One day we will look back at the tattered map that reveals every step, every dance, every word, every misgiving and every forgiveness.  This map will teach our children what it looks like to walk the road to the "Oneness" that God promises us.  You don't just become One when the ring slides smoothly into the crook of your finger.  That takes years...learning and growing never comes on a straight and un-littered path.  I can't wait to be old and wrinkly, staring into my husband's eyes...remembering when each line in time appeared in the corners of them.  Looking back and thinking, "how did all of life happen in such a short time" because time is relative - and it will be hard to grasp where it all went and how we managed.  We will laugh at the ridiculous and share in sorrows that we carried one another through.  We will know what God meant when He said that we would become One Flesh.  We will feel each others' pain and we will relish in each others' joy...because it will be our own.

"Love is like some fresh spring, first a stream and then a river, changing its aspect and its nature as 
it flows to plunge itself in some boundless ocean, where restricted natures only find monotony, but where great souls are engulfed in endless contemplation."...Honore' De Balzac

Love's Letter to Hate

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7xUZkKd58c
               (The Ballad of Love and Hate...Avett Brothers)

I love this song by the Avett Brothers.  It's interesting to ponder the relationship that Love has with Hate.  Love is writing to Hate, saying she's coming back and can't wait to see him.  There's a part where they talk about Love flying above and the feeling one gets from her and when she comes down...then they talk about Hate meeting strangers on the street and greeting each one.  Love spreads a feeling of joy and hope and starts relationships with those she comes in contact with.  Hate weedles into those who pass by and moves on...

What I love most is where Love finally sees Hate and offers nothing but forgiveness and herself.  Hate is angry and drunk, but when he sees Love, he falls at her feet.  It's interesting...Love and Hate run parallel to one another, they're just going in opposite directions.

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Love is waiting for Hate to turn around and come back to her, so she can embrace him and give him hope.

Have you ever thought about how limited our perception of Love actually is.  We judge the level of Love that God has for us based on our own experiences...and frankly our own experiences of love are severely meager in comparison to the Love that is greater...the Love that created...the Love that died and overcame.  Real love brings hope and healing.  Real love is something that would bring tears to your eyes, merely because of it's beauty and the thought of losing it is devastating.

I once heard a speaker from XXX Church say, "You can't blame the dark for being dark when no one is willing to shine some light in the room."  So can you blame the hateful for being hateful when no one has been willing to love them?

It's a Part of Living In the Fish Bowl

It's interesting, life...I'm good at forgiveness, right?  Then the world offers up new and different opportunities, and I find myself almost refusing to do so.  Our hearts are fickle things.  We know the right thing to do and we do it...or we "say" that we do it, but do we own it and possess the truth of it?  That is the struggle, right?  I know what is said, "to grow and move on, you must forgive.  Forgiving is for you, not the one who has harmed you...it's letting go, so they no longer have power over you."  What is this strange desire we sometimes have to dwell and linger in our pain?  Is it the feeling of entitlement?  The chance to hone your ability to point your finger, releasing yourself of any and all responsibility?  Or do we think that we do not deserve the chance to live without burden or blame?  It's funny, the real answer is to drop all of these rediculous ponderings and delegations of guilt.  The finger should never be pointed at one person...in fact, finger pointing is rude...isn't that what we were always told?  The point isn't about placing blame or having the one who "is at fault" to suffer the consequences, it's about learning, growing and loving.  All three of these things, in it of itself, is challenging.  But doing so reaps rewards of magnitudes unknown.  If it was easy to do, where would the reward be?  I'm gonna go back to the quote about what we've all heard that forgiveness is about...but just one part, "Forgiveness is for you, not the one who has harmed you, it's letting go so they no longer have power over you."  This is true, but there's something to remember...forgiveness IS for them too.  I'd like to think my act of forgiving is just for me, so I can move on and live a happy life...never having to think about what happened ever again.  But is that truly forgiving?  Aren't I to put others above myself?  Don't I have to be last to be first?  DANG that is hard!!!!  I'm only being honest...I'm no saint and neither is anyone else.  Are the saints really saints or are they just real people with real problems that had their journey written in the Bible?  They didn't always do the right thing, but they loved God through it.  They didn't have relationships figured out, but they tried and with humility.  They were real and God chose them.  We are all a part of the book of life and God is our audience...what will the reveiws sound like?  When God turns the last page of my memoir of my life here on earth, will He say, "Why couldn't you do for them, what I did for you?" or will He say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant?"  This is my choice after all...to choose what I want to hear from the only critic that matters.  I am, after all, just another fish in the bowl desperate to see the ocean....

I actually wrote this a while ago...I found myself looking back and realizing where I was and where I am now.  I still feel like all of what I said is true and real, but I'm finding myself slightly on the other side.  I feel like I left out a very important part in the saga of forgiveness...you can't force it.  Yes, we should do it, for all parties involved, but you can't try to make it happen too soon.  You have to go through the process and forgiveness is part of the process of healing.  It's the part that transforms you from the survivor to the overcomer.  It's integral, but it is a process.  We'll all be a victim of something, then we will survive and we will overcome.  I'm still in the fish bowl and I long for the ocean, but I'm no longer desperate.