Wednesday, November 18, 2015

11: I cry (unfinished)

Luke 10: 30-37
30 And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.
31 And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.
32 And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.
33 But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,
34 And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.
35 And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.
36 Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?
37 And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.



I cry (unfinished)

10/15/05

I cry inside the tears I cannot show
And fight the fears that only seem to grow
I fight the pain that comes but will not go
To save myself from worse should someone know.

And still I dream of better things to come
Of hopes, and dreams, and joys, and even fun
Of starry nights, of cloud and rain, or sun
Safe home that's free, of peace and warmth and love.

But here I'm trapped and fail to hide the pain
Of blows that keep coming time and time again


This was a rough weekend. It went in cycles at home where things would kind of be calm for a while and then the tensions would build till I was on edge always wondering just when the explosion would occur and what would trigger it. I'd been feeling it all week and this was what came out that Saturday. The mental and emotional full-frontal attack came the next night lasting well into the morning hours. I nearly missed a critical appointment the next morning due to the total exhaustion left from it. Thankfully, one of the people I have had available at times for support was there to mitigate the further potential strain and even relieve the strain that was there.

I was part of a committee on campus and we had a big activity specific to our group that day. Being part of the presidency, I had been there during the morning to help prepare before the rest came. During down time while food was cooking the others went who knows where and I tried to calm my spirit's stress by playing on the piano in one of the rooms. It did not help as much as it usually would. So I started writing. This was the result. It helped more. But I was still only minimally responsive to others all that day as the weight of the coming attack was such that I could not contain it and be social. None of them had a clue. But then it would have been hard to see it as the stress was so much during this time that I was constantly fighting to keep it all under wraps. So it wouldn't have looked all that different from what they had seen of me.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

10: One Thread

10 I, the Lord will forgive whom I will forgive
 but of you it is required to forgive all men.
11 And ye ought to say in your hearts --
let God judge between me and thee,
and reward thee according to thy deeds.


One Thread

10/4-5/05

Much to say, what to tell?
How to show where I've been?
Pick a thread, follow it through it's way
Many good, some are not
And this thread holds much pain
But this thread wove my world day by day.

I must unloose this thread
And replace as I go
Lest I unravel and, in shreds, fall
And prevent, as I can
From more thread being laid
As it gathers all up in a ball.

What to do with the ball?
Cut it off and away
And continue to loose as I go
Till it's gone and I'm free
From the chains of that thread
Free to be, free to live, free to grow.

Many have condemned me
For effects this thread has caused
Blind to see that I could not control
Where or how it got placed
When I too could not see
But the pain and the fear of my soul.

So confused at more pain
And still trying to be
The best everyone else thought I should
It was never enough
As it never can be
Still I tried to do all that I could.

Then I looked back and saw
How this thread shaped my life
And, at first, thought it must be my fault
But it's not, and I've tried
Just to lay fault aside
And to focus on loosing this knot.

Some remnants may escape
My split concentration
As I both treat and try to prevent
But the process moves on
And I'm closer each day
As I learn from what all this has meant.

So I see all the threads
But this one I must change
To no longer hurt me or my dreams
For new dreams I now see
As I learn the true me
And the hope of my future redeems.


I have had many people try to tell me that I must repent and/or forgive those involved in my home situation when the hard memories call back emotional responses. The truth is that forgiveness is not the issue in my case as I'm so empathetic I cry when fictional characters face death or great loss or pain. I'm merely reacting with empathy to my own memories of pain. Crazy weird, I know. But it brings up the issue of forgiveness. Many people seem to think that forgiveness means feeling and acting like nothing bad happened - a warm, fuzzy, I love you, you love me kind of feeling. That if you just flip the switch everything will be ok again - in you, with the offending persons, with God. I see forgiveness in a different way. 

Forgiveness is letting go of vengefulness for the wrongs of the past, leaving correction in God's hands, and moving on with your own life. While a discussion on why our standing in the way of someone else receiving of the Savior's atonement because we were offended is a good one to ponder, it is the moving on element that sets you free. It does not mean staying in an unhealthy environment. But it does mean that you take charge of your future and face forward instead of walking backwards blind in life because you refuse to put it aside. Often I find myself glad I don't have to be the judge of people. But it also occurs to me that no one will give a better judgment and exact a more appropriate price on those who have offended than God. Those who merit mercy will receive it and those who do not will find they have a rude awakening.

Forgiveness is accepting that the Lord will make recompense for the wrongs done and accepting that the debt then becomes between the offender and the Lord.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

9: Ready

5 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart;
and lean not unto thine own understanding.
6 In all thy ways acknowledge him,
and he shall direct thy path.


Ready

9/16/05

He told me, "Be ready;
It's coming your way."
For what? I don't know
Or when? I can't say.

I see more pieces crumble
And in my heart I pray
That I may help someone
Who needs me on their way.

There is freedom, hope, and joy outside
Which can't be found within
And those who would restrain
Can't see what costs their win.

Pain, fear, and guilt, and anger
Employed to get his way
Is it really any wonder
Why we would not choose to stay?

Meanwhile, I stand ready
For the rest, I could not tell
But here I stand and I must trust
In God all will be well.


It is curious that this poem came roughly a year before my last real contact with home. The year before had been horribly difficult to survive as I had stayed one final year at home beyond what my personal intentions and desires were. Though hard, that final year was a great blessing for it taught me that, in my personal case, it wouldn't matter how hard I tried to make them happy - it would never be enough for them. When Heavenly Father finally said it was enough for Him and I could be done with it all, I was able to walk away without any second-guessing or wondering whether, if I had just tried harder, maybe things would finally have gotten better. Instead, having stayed in the house, and after, in general contact for another year or so, I was free to leave and have had no need to look back.

As this poem shows, Heavenly Father was preparing me for separation even before I was fully aware it was coming. The first months of this particular year in question I found myself disturbed and concerned at whether I could think of anything positive taught me by my father that wasn't tainted with manipulation or twisted doctrine or hateful or degrading commentary. It took a month of pondering but I finally managed a handful of untainted memories. That Father's Day, while trying to think what to give, I felt prompted to write him a letter sharing those memories (minus the fact they were the only ones like that…). I distinctly remember the feeling that it would be the only opportunity to share them with him. I did not understand why that was at the time, but I wrote it and gave it to him anyway. I can't say its reception was laudable, but those feelings and later events proved that Heavenly Father knew what was coming and was preparing for it even without my understanding.