Tag Archive | broken

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

O Christmas Tree…your boughs can teach a lesson

Friends went out recently for their annual hunt for the perfect Christmas tree.  There is so much debate today about whether the word, Christmas, and it’s celebrations are politically correct for the world we live in today.  I’m not going to settle that one, but as my daughter and our woodcutter friend were collecting firewood this week for an upcoming snow in Colorado, I paused to reflect on a few things.

As Jason picked up the 8 foot logs he had cut, hoisting them over his shoulder, I was caught by the power it takes to lift this awkwardly long piece of pine and load it on the truck. Rachel and I took the less heavy ones and they were challenging.  We loaded up about a cord and I could hear my shoulder beginning to cry, “uncle!” as we finished the last few.  As I watched Jason, though, I thought how did Yeshua carry his cross down the streets of Jerusalem?  Beaten beyond recognition and craving rest and water, he walked barefoot down the pebbled street to his crucifixion.  I have had others in a bible study nail the sins of the flesh to the cross and the nails required to hold human flesh to wood…unimaginable.  I bought what looked like railroad spikes and I’m telling you, I can’t imagine having it driven through my flesh.

I have a crown of grapevine thorns hanging in my solarium and I used to keep it in a hatbox for our own protection, but now it hangs on the wall.  I have pricked my fingers or accidentally brushed my hand across it a few times and it is memorable.  But, until now, I hadn’t really put a tree on my shoulders and carried it.  I stopped in the forest for a moment to stare up at the most beautiful lodgepole pine. The bark is a silvery white and they stand so straight with branches spread out and airy and topping at about 30 feet around here.

Did he know when he prayed in the Garden that night that he would soon carry a tree upon his back and it would lift his beaten body up for all to see?  As he looked into the faces of the ones he loved, was his heart heavy for what they were also about to face?  Did he grieve when the soldiers gambled below him for the scraps of clothing removed from him?

I know I have fought many a physical battle in elementary school at the hands of those who hate something or someone different.  I survived to fight another day.  I was a frail, petite asian american and against 5 others, pretty much beaten before I began, but somewhere within me resounded a righteous anger against those who exert power because they can and use it to force others to submit to their tyranny.  Kids can be cruel when there is no authority to inhibit the confusion and anger and loneliness they feel.  Unfortunately, many are left drowning in the pool of hatred brought on my differences.

So as I reflect on the celebration many are preparing for this holiday season, I find myself so grateful that there was another who fought bigger battles, physical beatings, emotional trauma, and did not seek to understand the whys, just resting in the power of the One who sent Him and trusted Him to complete His journey despite the abusers, moneymongers, religious right, betrayers, jealous, ignorant creatures of His time.  He focused instead on those who were suffering under the rule of those in power:  the broken, the sick, the fearful, the grieving, the pure, outcasts, the condemned….all of us who are seeking in this world for the one thing that will fill a void that is always there no matter what gifts, lovers, money, friends we have.  He walked as one of us and I am so grateful He calls me His beloved.

Doors….some open, some closed

Open the Door

So I was at our local Sheriff’s Office yesterday getting my concealed weapons license and while I was waiting for the processing of my application, i was taken back somewhat by the stark, sterile sense of environment.  Everything was brown, with one-way mirrors and buttons you push to talk to someone through a speaker.  Policemen and women exit and enter, and the heavy security doors shut hard, echoing down a stairwell nearby.  There are no plants, no warmth, and no laughter.

Various people enter and exit.  The lady waiting to be bonded. The boyfriend, speaking into the intercom about when he can pick up his girlfriend for bond. The young man attempting to get his arrest record for impersonating an officer and having his car impounded for evidence (yeah, I wondered) and his girlfriend, quiet and soft spoken and obviously encouraging him that it’ll be okay.

What struck me as odd was the emptiness of it.  It definitely resounds…confinement, boundaries and the only words on every door…Authorized Personnel Only.

It made me think, “the Father has surely opened and closed many doors for me and others.”  Some of the doors are figurative, like the door to choice.  Unfortunately, we don’t always choose good.

The door of the Ark before the flood was closed by God to save a few in a world of bad choices.

Yeshua says, I am the door, if any man enter in, he shall be saved.  He says He stands at the door and knocks and if any man hears His voice and opens the door, He will come in to him, eat with him and the man will eat with Yeshua.

Hebrews 4:15-16:  For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

The above passage stresses the attitude with which those who have chosen Him can enter in…With Confidence, knowing you will receive mercy and grace when you need it.  The other verses speak of a man entering in, but he must first hear and by hearing, I believe follow the One who opened the door for him.

What an amazing opportunity!  God asks us to come to Him, Yeshua knocks at the door, hoping we will open it.  An offer of life.  He says ANY man who enters shall be saved.  Not just authorized personnel.  The door is open if we will walk through it.  How many times in our lives do doors open and we walk through without thinking of where we’re going.

I assume in the above scripture that if we’re knocking on a door, we know where it leads to just as those who exited and entered the doors within this jail, knew what was behind the door.  There is usually not mercy or grace behind those doors. This place is a place where justice is dealt out routinely.

But there is still a door you must open, and behind it is the One who is Justice, Mercy, Compassion and Love.  It’s not too late.  Open the door to your heart and believe that life is greater than where you are right now and someone is offering it to you so come in confidently knowing another has given you authorization, has paid your bond and waits for you.

Open the Door

Update on Mystery of Intimacy

Look under God’s Love Story for a study that helps to define how God sees the true intimate love relationship between man and woman. I will write a series after it that will begin in Genesis 1 and demonstrate how God set the pattern on how to LOVE INTIMATELY and that His Son, Yeshua, will also demonstrate and that we. as spiritual men and women, have possibly been ignorant of by following our cultural understanding of how a “marriage” should be. It is my conviction that those who have a desire to seek may find answers to the question of why those of us who claim to be spiritual are struggling as the world does with divorce, broken relationships, and unnecessary suffering.\

John 15:13: Greater LOVE has no man than this, that to lay down his life for a friend.

Woman was created to be loved, not lusted after and Men were created to be the ones to Love her. Man was created to be trusted, but women are finding that an impossible endeavor because of so many broken relationships. Women lay down their bodies hoping to find a special love from one man, however, prior experiences make it challenging for the “right” one who comes later in their lives and so women continue to lay down their hearts and rise up only to be broken again. Unfortunately, men pay a price in this too and the women they meet are not able to receive love and so the cycle continues. Who pays?

In the end, God pays. His love is not made full in this cycle of pain. Disillusioned, we either adapt to the status quo or end up lonely, alone, and ignorant to the fact that God’s desire for love was greater. He wanted more for all of us. He still does.

So join me as I take this journey of love. It is not a journey meant to point the finger at any particular gender. The enemy of both spiritual men and women is still ever present. If we keep that in mind, perhaps, we can learn to love greater than we have before. God made us physical, emotional, intellectual, sexual and spiritual beings with a choice. Let us see if we are making our own choices or following the crowd of victims in the endless cycle of pain.

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.