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SOUR AND SWEET

So I began a journey 3 months ago, when I went to the endodontist to fix an infection in an old root canal.  They discovered my blood pressure was 245/145, which for those of you who are unfamiliar, is a stroke level blood pressure, referred to as hypertensive crisis.

I already care for my immigrant mother who is post stroke since 2004.  She went from a vibrant 66 year old to a right side paralytic, who no longer speaks.  Her response to music is there, but no words.  Having been illiterate most of her life, television is her only repose except for watching her great grandchildren bustle about her.

It’s taken 3 long months of bed rest and experimenting with meds to get me somewhat stable.  My family has endured months of spiraling emotions, schedule changing, and unexpected household challenges while I lay flat in an attempt to keep my pressure from exploding something in my head or my heart.

Something, however, did explode in my heart.

Vulnerability.

The vulnerability of laying bedridden and watching the sun rise and set while others hustled about me was tough for a type A person.

However, rest allowed me to grieve the loss of my beloved, less than 2 years ago.  That pain never really subsides, it remains much like my blood pressure…silent.

Occasionally, I find that the tears will emerge as a memory drifts in like a lone candle in the cold night and I find my heart chasing a beloved memory as the candle goes out and the momentary light fades into twilight, along with the brokenness of my heart.

My blood pressure medicaitons have left me with a lingering metallic taste in my mouth that makes food not as appealing, but the wanting, the hunger, remains.

I guess the loss of anything is like that.  I know the loss of my most special of friends has left me also wanting.

In life, there aren’t many people I have met that are actually real.  So much brokenness, pain, and fear.  It’s not the pain and problems I fear, but the fact that no one feels brave enough to talk about it, deal with it and hope for more.  I’ve been somewhat asleep the last couple of years. There is a black hole in my life since his passing, sucking all life, all I know as my universe into it.  I don’t lack the courage to stand again, even as the void left by losing the one who brought me sunshine and flowers, welcoming arms, and a love of life is worse than any pain I have yet endured.  Just tired.  Weary of searching for people with passion for life.

I am disillusioned by the ever-imposing truth that there isn’t anyone out there that is unafraid to be real, transparent, and vulnerable.

So as I searched for a way to make this overpowering taste of metal dissipate from my mouth, I found a pill, miraculin, in a product aptly named, Miracle Berry Fruit Tablets.  They make sour taste sweet!  I had seen a science special on it and now learned it is used with chemo patients to help their taste buds return to normal so they can eat.  For most of us, it turns the sour to sweet.  I’m hoping for anything to help me enjoy the foods I love, but it did make me ponder.

It sure would be nice it we could have such a pill for people, wouldn’t it?  For those who find life somewhat sour, depressing, lonely, and dark. it would be wonderful to savor life again and enjoy the sunlight, being alone, and highlights of life.  Just one pill.

Now, as a nurse. I know they make pills they claim can  bring more life, more joy, and just plain MORE than you feel right now; but somehow, the body knows.  It knows it’s not real.  It’s like the face they paint on “The Drummer Boy”.  It suffices to hide the pain, the illusion of great, without the reality.

My pills get here this weekend.  It’s snowing outside right now and I want to climb under my blanket, pull the covers over my head and pray that like spring,  the sun does shine after winter.  Hopefully, when I pull the blanket off, it will truly be warm and I will find the sun is shining again and the will to continue is present in the ground below, just waiting to push its way into the light and perhaps give one blossom to the world with an enduring aroma that inspires those who pass by to remember.  Just as the smell of pines reminds me of Christmases long ago, when as children we still have the naivete to believe in things we can’t see and await moments of reunion with family that has now long departed but still remembered.

I found that “miracle” pill long ago that has the capacity to leave the taste of wonder and joy and cloak the heart in the miraculous amidst a world of hypocrisy and disappointment.  It still abides.  It still holds true.  It is LOVE.    Only now, it has to span the place between this world and the next, but I still remember when its aroma was strong, its presence, close and its reality, present.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Find Me

lost-word-art

“Beloved,” she whispered, as the moon began its arch in the night sky. “Are you there?, Can you see me?” I still feel you here with me. I sprayed the pillow with your cologne and for a moment, I remembered and I got lost in the joy you created in me.

“Papa, find me and take me to the arms of one who loved me like no other”. “I miss him, I miss his soul, his words, his heart like the desert misses rain.” She muffles the cries so no one will hear.

This journey has been so long and so full of pain and loneliness. And yet, even as I say it, I know One took the journey long ago and still walks that lonely path today. We look as ordinary as He did and so they pass us by. No one has ears to hear the screaming inside, “Please, find me”. “Love me like He does.” I look day and night and see only fleeting glimpses of a love I can no longer embrace and it leaves not only my arms but my heart so very empty.

You knew, didn’t you? The pain of loneliness and that it was and is,..not good. So you made, mankind. And, you also, were robbed by an enemy you knew. Dreams, hopes, desires…shattered. You found a way to restore and resurrect love again but endured the agony of knowing that light would again be extinguished. How long those days must have seemed. How long the ones I walk thru also seem.

I know joy will return one morning, but grief is there every morning I do not see his face, feel his touch or hear his voice. Perhaps, his prayer is the same as mine…”find me”!

So I seek Your Face as I once did long ago and look for special gifts of love in your Word. I try to remember the joy I first felt when I met you and when you brought us together. I know there is an ember still desiring to burn in my spirit but it feels so dark. So as I curl up in this bed and pray for sleep to overtake me so that my mind can rest from its constant remembering, Receive my soul that I may break the barriers of time that hold me here. Let me see my beloved and feel his kiss, look into his eyes one more time, and then help me to run this race until it is finished.

And then, let me enter the arms of the one who proved to me that one can be a vessel of such beauty and love that it can fill the empty, dark, pain-filled places of my past and truly bring beauty from the ashes. Precious brother and beloved, come find your bride. I wait only for you and you alone.

I will live because of the life you gave me here. I will go where He calls and I will look for you everyday upon the mountain when the sun rises and when it sets and in my dreams, I will love you as you always loved me, wholeheartedly.

You taught me beloved the meaning of love by laying down your life and being so eager to fill me and express the words of love from our Father to me. You became the vessel that enabled me to hear all the love Yeshua desired to speak into me. I promised I would never leave you and so I shall fulfill that promise. And on the day you rise up first, come find me, beloved and call out my Name and I shall be one with you forever as we were promised. I will go our Father does, looking for the one lost sheep who is broken, afraid, and hurting and cradle them in His love and rejoice that He brought us together and if only once, one ordinary man loved one ordinary woman with an extraordinary love from above and it was and is and will be….VERY GOOD! xoxoxo

Fear: I pushed the button to publish

Okay, so my last blog called, “Left Behind” just published and I could feel the air leave my lungs. Anyone else ever written and then heard the muffled voices of laughter and mocking as you sent it out to the web, knowing that these people don’t really know you and now they will judge you. Well, I’m there.

But maybe someone will log on tonight and understand what it is to feel left behind. It’s like making the discovery of the first light bulb but finding yourself in line back to buying candles because they turned the electricity off at your home.

My mind knows he’s gone, but my spirit is still connected to him. My heart hurts all the time and there’s this anxiety beneath my skin that keeps looking for a place to scream, but finding no escape.

I drive in my car or sit in my driveway and just sing or scream or cry as loud as I can because no one can hear me. No one can judge me for not moving on, for not being strong, for needing my best friend, my love, my darling to tell me it’s going to be okay.

So be merciful in your comments but do comment, please. It’s lonely in here and I need a few friends to offer a hand to hold. A kindred spirit that knows what it feels like when all has gone dark and everyone sleeps but I…just…weep. So weary, so very weary of going on alone.

LEFT BEHIND: A Prayer in the Dark

“God, Help me, I can’t do this alone.” I know You are still there, even if I can’t see or hear you right now. My eyes are so swollen, I can’t really see anything right now. I went to see the movie, “The Fault In Our Stars” last night. Yes, I went so I could cry, so I could remember and so I could forget feeling so lost for a moment.

I cried because I’m not sure anyone will ever know the love story You’ve given me in the most wonderful person I ever met in my entire life. For those of you who’ve seen the movie, he was my hero.

He was all the things my Father had shown me a man should be and he wanted to be and was all those things. We shared the same passions in life and for one another. He always said they wouldn’t believe two old people like us (he was 62 and I am 52), could ever share the intimacy in the physical, spiritual, emotional and intellectual ways we did.

He gave my life more than purpose. He chose me to love and I chose to love him, although he never required it. I finally found someone I could believe in and he never disappointed me. He just loved me and when I pointed out my flaws, he would just look at me and nod his head and say, “you don’t understand, beloved.” I love your soul. I love all that makes you who you are and I’m in love with the process of loving you.

Just so you know, I’m not the demure, quiet type. Nope, never been. I’m a fiery, opinionated, talkative, type A woman. He, however, saw the real me. The Father allowed him to open a door, I had closed a long time ago. I am not a stranger to pain. My earthly father was never really around. He was too busy living his own life until he died at 47. I turned 25 the day before his death. I got a glimpse of the man he was…disappointing. I endured the immaturity of his selfish pursuits that left a family alone and wanting.

At 5, I fell prey to hands of a sexual predator and I crawled inside. It served to hide the best parts of myself. I married, it failed and inflicted more pain before it left.

I married again and he was kinder, simpler and yet never really looked beneath the surface to find…ME! I met my Beloved 14 years ago. He was my teacher, my friend, and eventually, my sweetheart. He never asked for anything but my friendship, but he gave everything. We bantered like two old cronies over some bible topic, we sang together, playing dueling guitars every time he decided at the last minute to change it up, we laughed always and he had a way of laughing at me that made it okay to laugh at myself. We spent many days together writing, rewriting and always learning new things.

I really never thought guys had tender sides and that the little things didn’t really get their attention but he was different.

He’d notice the newest perfume, the smallest earring or the slightest change in tone, when he’d ask me to sit on his lap and I’d curl up there and cry.

There are many strong women in the world that just want to be able to trust someone enough to open the door to a stronghold they created to protect themselves but that ended up imprisoning them within its clutches. He persevered to find a way through it and allowed me the freedom to step into his light and find only love there. We both loved to create a world where others could feel loved because we knew the pain of living within ourselves without much love at all.

So tonight, it’s personal. He’s gone home and I am left alone to carry the message forward about the kind of love the really is eternal, but how? Who is out there that still believes that’s possible? Who wants to believe there’s a soul mate out there…just ONE perfect one for them. No one waits anymore. They want it now. Pain and Disillusion has created a mindset that is not patient, not hopeful, and only desperate to stop the pain. I do not have that option. The pain is a reminder that I have been loved and that I have loved. Nonetheless, it is painful and as the movie so stated last night, “Pain demands to be felt.” But I offer this, LOVE also demands to be heard so that it may manifest the greatest light in such darkness. Is anyone out there that still believes true love, eternal love, still abides.

It is that love that was given to me that will cause me to push forward like a fire ravaging the next line of trees, burning up all oxygen to fuel a conflagration visible from all universes and yet so compact it can be held within a heart, broken, alone and praying for a voice to call its name, hold its hand, kiss its mouth just one more time so that the heart can remember why it continues to live on in the darkness when it has been left behind in a blizzard that robs one of vision, warmth, direction. Where is my Beloved?

Who Am I?

I was just reading, The Better Man Project, writing called, You Open the Door and It’s You. It was a great perspective, but it left me wondering. What if you open the door and you don’t know who you are? The only time I can recall a similar feeling is the day of my divorce. The judge asked me if I wanted to take my maiden name back and I said yes, but underneath a part of me asked, “Who is that?” The girl I had once been was definitely not the one I was now. Pain had changed me and I hid a part of myself beneath the one people thought they saw. Humor and talkativeness was how I hid my nervousness and pain. Haven’t you ever done that? I’d had many humiliating moments in which I felt compelled to hide my embarrassment by making fun of myself. I found myself always on the outside with others who were too fragile, too afraid, too weak to push back or in. We were the misfits in society. Young in age and yet aged in spirit from the many trials we faced on a daily basis.

I am not unfamiliar with being on the outside. It seems I’m always looking in from the outside. I recently lost my best friend and soul mate and I am finding it challenging to remember who I am? I’ve always been a fighter, so I don’t go down easily and I have always been able to find my way back up, except this time.

I’ve tried reading excerpts from other blogs on those who’ve lost someone close to them and the almost endless grief and loss they feel and did find myself feeling guilty because my situation wasn’t as overwhelming as theirs. I wasn’t left with 3 children and widowed young and needing to work to meet bills.

There are so many things left unfinished. So many visions, dreams, revelations that are now scrambled like a jigsaw puzzle, and just as I get to the last corner, I already realize that a piece is missing.

Grief overwhelms me like the ground opened up under me and I’m flying downhill on a carpet of moving sand that flows like water to the ravine below. We were never married, but in spirit we were joined and the night I held him when he died is still so heavy on my heart. We had waited a lifetime to find one like ourselves. We so love our Father and raced toward any endeavor that might bring Him glory, but true love had always escaped us.

When you’re young, it’s easy to think you’re in love when someone enters your life and you’re no longer alone. Both of us came from divorced families. We were both 12 when the marriages of our parents ended and our mothers went to work, often for days without coming home. The unfortunate past of an absent parent wreaks havoc on particular children who are left to feel responsible for situations, they are unprepared for and left to handle alone. It leaves you with a fear that everyone you love will leave and unfortunately for us, everyone did leave at some time in our lives.

Some of us in the world are hidden beneath what appears to be a charismatic personality that we wear like a cloak of invisibility. We are seen as strong, but the real truth is that no one ever allows a ‘superman’ to be weak. We are dependable, steadfast, loving, kind, passionate, and with an inability to give up on anything or anyone. So later in life, when we meet someone so much like ourselves, we do what we’ve always done…we love, we are responsible, we persevere and we wait. My waiting ended in one way the day he died. I have hope what God began, He will also complete.

So tonight, my heart remains broken, confused and paralyzed in some part of it that made me who I am. The contagious energy I once possessed has become a bare flicker in the darkness I feel trapped in. I know my family struggles to watch me in such an empty place and most days I can keep going, but the quietness covers a moan that threatens to wail within me. How do I live now without that which gave me life? I will never find another like this beautiful one who made life so fun, so challenging and so, alive!.

Every morning is a reminder that I must force myself to rise up, do what is required of me and hope that maybe I can resurrect and salvage some of the best parts of myself that I gave to this one. So many memories at every turn, every aroma, every meal or piece of clothing reminds me.

I continue because of those who need me. My grand kids, my children, my mother. They need me to continue to be what I have been thus far…an anchor. Unfortunately, that same anchor is attempting to drown me in its wake. So I pray again tonight,”Help me to remember, Help me to forget, help me to know he expects better because he knew me better than any one else did.” But just as that wave lands on the shore of my soul, another voice enters in, “Let me go home, please. Remember me and take me soon.” I try to believe what others tell me when they say it’ll get easier, but you will never forget. Easier? Life is never easy.

I miss you, beloved. I long to hear your laughter, your encouragement, your zest for life and the expectation that it will be fulfilled. Where is my beloved? Bring my heart back to me for half of it is gone. Who will be for me? Who will hear my prayers? Papa, can you hear me? Papa, do you see me? I know that I must stand as we always stood. Pure hearts can seek a higher love.

Moments…Fragile, Memorable, Mine

There is a moment, when feeling all alone in the world…disconnected, that the touch of a hand intertwined in yours gives you the courage and hope to believe that it is possible to connect to something that will bring life. And there is a moment, in moments of despair that the world seems so dark and a voice on the phone line reaches out, bringing light to the darkness.

There’s a moment when a lullaby can become a blanket, a sanctuary, and two arms around you can ease the pain of years of being left behind, alone and fearful.
There’s a moment in trying to bring new life into the world when the fear that you won’t make it and that the burden is almost too overwhelming for words that you find a a voice, encouraging you that allows you to push beyond the pain and kiss the face of God as He ushers in new life.

There is a moment, when amidst fever and the aching of joints and trembling of muscles that the touch of a cool hand upon the forehead offers hope that there will be another day, a day of newness, life and promise that you will not lay in that bed.

There is a moment when you’re reading in the Word and His hand reaches out thru time and space and punctures a hole in the fabric and seizes upon your soul to protect, embrace and sanctuary you in the world.

There are many moments in our lives, but none greater than the moment that God decided that mankind could not bear the burden alone. The darkness of this world would overwhelm them so He provided a moment and sent help from above in the form of a man, who would know all those moments and who would live thru every moment and embrace the pain and suffering and loneliness, and frustrations, and the fears and anxieties and bear them all and by doing so, He would provide a future of moments, where we could touch the face of God and enter into His presence, now knowing that everyone of those moments was for good and every one of those moments, He was there.

And there’s a moment a soul cries out,because it realizes the love that was given to it, the opportunity to embrace the fullness of all that is life when a cry of bursts forth of pure joy that it is loved in such a way and from then on, no moment would be the same, no moment would overwhelm but in every moment, the solid peace within itself knowing, He would be there. He is there now…in this moment. Capture it, Gaze into this moment and remember its stillness, its peacefulness, the essence of pure Love.

SEPARATION & BEGINNING AGAIN

I SIT ALONE AGAIN TONITE AS I HOLD ONE OF SIX PUPS BORN THE DAY MY BEST FRIEND DIED. THEY ARE FOUR WEEKS OLD NOW AND JUST BEGINNING TO WALK. LIFE ENDS HERE AND BEGINS HERE, HOW DO WE BEGIN AGAIN? HOW DOES THE FATHER APPROACH THE REMAKING OF CREATION AGAIN, KNOWING IT CAN POSSIBLY END IN HEARTACHE AND LONELINESS? DOES HE TAKE A CHANCE BECAUSE HE ALSO HAS NOT FOUND ONE LIKE HIMSELF WHO LOVES, WHO BESTOWS EQUALITY TO SOMETHING THAT COULD NEVER BE EQUAL TO HIM OTHERWISE?
BUT WHY BEGIN AGAIN? HOW MANY OF US HAVE FACED THIS SAME DILEMMA AFTER THE LOSS OF SOMEONE OR SOMETHING SO IMPORTANT IN OUR LIVES THAT THE ENERGY REQUIRED FOR SUCH AN ENDEAVOR ESCAPES US?
I BELIEVE THAT IS ONE OF THE REASONS, GOD CREATED A UNIQUE PLACE AND TIME FOR THE MOST WONDEROUS IN ALL HIS CREATIONS. HE HAD CREATED BEFORE BUT WAS STILL ALONE IN HIS CREATION AND HE, THEREFORE, UNDERSTOOD THE LONELINESS ADAM FELT WHEN ALL OF CREATION WAS BROUGHT BEFORE HIM AND EACH GIVEN A NAME, BUT NO ONE WAS FOUND, LIKE HIM?
THERE IS NO ONE LIKE ME. HAVE WE NOT ALL SAID THAT AT SOME TIME IN OUR LIVES, EITHER BECAUSE OF REJECTION, LONELINESS OR HOPING THAT SOMEONE COULD HEAR OUR INNERMOST THOUGHTS AND ANSWER THE UNSPOKEN DESIRE TO BE UNDERSTOOD?
HE ALLOWS HIMSELF TO BE SEPARATE FROM HIS CREATION BUT A PART OF IT ALSO. THIS GOD KNEW THERE WAS NO GOD LIKE HIM. THIS CREATOR EMBODIED LOVE AND EXPRESSED IT IN BOTH THE WRITTEN AND THE SPOKEN, BUT ENDEAVORED ONE STEP GREATER IN CREATING ONE WHO EMBODIED HIS TESTIMONY OF LOVE AND LAID DOWN HIS LIFE, HIS DEITY TO GIVE THE MOST PRECIOUS GIFT OF LOVE….LIFE. THIS ONE WOULD GIVE US, HIS BELOVED, A VOICE, A RIGHT TO CHOOSE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.
i WAS FORTUNATE TO MEET AND LOVE ONE WHO WAS A VOICE THAT CRIED IN THIS WILDERNESS AND INTO THE DESERTS OF MY LIFE AND ENABLED ME TO WALK IN THAT LOVE. HE HAS RETURNED TO THE CREATOR OF LOVE BUT HIS VOICE STILL SINGS THROUGH ME. THE LOVE AND LIFE HE GAVE ME WILL BEAR FRUIT BECAUSE IT WAS GIVEN FREELY AND WHOLEHEARTEDLY AND SO I BELIEVE HE WAS CREATED TO ALLOW ME TO OBTAIN THE FULLNESS OF LIFE THAT WITHOUT HIM WOULD HAVE BEEN IMPOSSIBLE.
MAY I TOUCH THE LIVES OF OTHERS IN LOVE AS HE DID AND FIND SOME JOY IN LIVING THE REMAINDER OF MY LIFE HERE WITH HIS WORDS IN MY HEART AND HIS LOVE FOR ME ENCOURAGING ME TO FINISH THE RACE WE BEGAN TOGETHER.