Unique and Original

This week, I spent a morning watching the ABC programs online about Jaycee Dugard’s interview with Diane Sawyer. While I could not watch the whole thing- silly international program issues- I was able to watch various 10 minute sections.

While watching, I was horrified and pained by the story of this young woman who survived 18 years of captivity including abuse and childbirth at a young age. My mind is boggled by her personal story… an experience that I can only imagine. As I thought about her story, my mind was brought to others. Elizabeth Smart- a child who was kidnapped when I was almost the same age as she. I remember praying for her everyday for months- miraculously she was found months later. These women are not alone. How many others have been taken or abused. Each one suffering a pain that none other can fathom.

I think of how each person’s pain is unique and original. No matter how similar one person’s story is to another’s none can ever completely understand their pain, grief, or loss. Just as each one of us is unique- so will our reactions and experiences be. While compassion comes easy to me, and it doesn’t take much for me to put myself in someone’s shoes, I can never know exactly what someone else is going through.

One of my favorite books is Michelle Phoenix’s Edge of Tidal Pools. I read it in highschool and remember crying very hard when I read it. Note: I don’t cry over books- it’s VERY rare. This book shared the story of someone’s pain and while it was fiction, it was based on events that really have and do happen to people. It broke my heart to think of this horrible emotional pain that was detailed by the author. A pain that was very real to many around me.

Pain is something very real to me- which has helped and hindered me. Helped me to understand others, yet hindered me in forgiveness. The people that I’ve had the hardest time forgiving are those that have knowingly hurt people I love.

The more you love people, the wider the door for them to hurt you…and sometimes loving people deeply allows you to almost take on their pain in ways you aren’t meant to. Because in the end, you cannot feel their pain, nor can you take it from them. No matter how much I love someone or feel compassion for their pain- I can never take it all on or away. All  my desires to help, love, and be compassionate to people are nothing. I cannot feel nor ever experience the pain, abuse, hurt, and loss that any other human being has. I can only know what is mine to feel. Yet…

There is One Higher and Greater than I. One who not only can imagine your pain, but experiences it with you. The one who took on the Pain of the Cross so that one day the unique, individual, and original pain of your heart and mine would not only fade but heal.  For he that trusts in Jesus, there will one day be more than no more tears- there will be no more scars. Only pure love and joy flowing from the heart of He who created you- unique and original, individual you.

Dying? Tomorrow?

My online classes always make me think. Sometimes more than other classes…Maybe because I actually have time to think about the material! Anyway, the prompt asked us to discuss what our emotions and actions would be like if we knew we were going to die soon. This is what I wrote:

“I would be sort of frightened at first and maybe disappointed that my time on earth was coming to a close. I would be excited too though, too.
I would be so very overjoyed to see Jesus and never be separated from His presence. I would be glad that I would soon no longer have to struggle with sin and pain, too.

Yet, like Jesse mentioned in his post, I would be saddened to leave others behind. I would want to make sure that I cleared up any disagreements an said things that I needed to say. I would also want to make sure that I wrote to and spoke to anyone who I believed needed to hear the gospel. And yes, I’m sure I would have some regrets; we all do.  

I would make sure that I got rid of most of my stuff before I died. I would try to make it easier for my family, since going through stuff after folks pass away can be difficult. Plus, I’m a pack-rat, so it would be a bit of a headache anyway!

I think I’d have a goodbye party for myself, too. Maybe even make up a program for my funeral and get stuff ready. Of course, that might freak folks out…

Thinking about this is a good reminder that any minute God could call me home. It’s best to be responsible now with relationships, possessions, and time. Today really could be my last…you never know.”

Do you miss Him?

A number of times, I’ve had this thought come to my mind, “I miss Jesus.” Sometimes, I thought that perhaps it was my desire to be closer to Him or become like Him…or even that my walk wasn’t doing so good lately. Yet, today I realized that it was a bit different. That feeling I get when “I miss Jesus” is a wanting for the physical presence of Christ.

I miss His arms around me even though He’s never hugged me.
I miss His voice, even though I’ve never heard Him out loud.
I miss being in His company, even though I’ve never sat next to Him.
I miss being able to talk to Him and see His face as He listens-but I never have been able to.
I miss running from a million miles and having Him catch me, although He never has.
I miss being able to cry for hours and have Him wipe away every tear that falls from my face with the perfect assurance that He’s there loving me regardless of life.
And I miss His laughter. It’s beautiful you know…

Someday that missing feeling will go away and never come back.

Time Flies!

I’m packing to leave for a missionary conference, and I picked up my journal. Read from the last year and a half’s entries…wow, so much has changed! God has worked in great ways all around me and within me even more! I’m humbled by His grace, love, and mercy.

A lot has happened these last two weeks, including a wonderful visit from a very loved person,  an exhausting VBS,  and a runaway ‘cousin.’ So many emotions, thought, conversations and words. Too much to summarize. Yet, I’ve seen God work mightily, and have no doubt He will continue to do so, even in the harder areas (finance and leaving home again). He is ….I have no words to fill the blank, many rush to my mind, yet none adequate to name His truly mind-blowing BEING.

He IS!!

Prayer

It is such a privilege to be able to pray for people. Thank You, Father  for allowing us to communicate with You through your Spirit and because of the death and resurrection of Your Son! To You be the Glory!!

Again?

So, we just said bye to one fellow missionary family last week. Now this week, another.

I really don’t like this goodbye business. Yet, missionaries have to do it over and over again. It’s a reminder in a way…not to cling to tightly to this world I guess.

Glad for Facebook though. I could not have survived as an Mk twenty years ago. Snail mail would have killed off all my friendships. I’ve been quite blessed to have been born to this generation! I’m also even more glad I serve a God who is sovereign and gives us only as much as we can take. He is so AMAZING!

I Told You So

Why do we do stupid things?

For years, I’ve been drinking the Mexican tap water (well using it) when I brush my teeth. Mama has always warned me about it. Don’t use the “bug water” to brush your teeth!! But, I did it anyway.

Fool. Haha…Now, I’m sick. That’s what I get for drinking “white man water” for the last two years at college! No…that’s what I get for not obeying mama.

How many times do we do what we know is foolish because we want our own way? How many times does it lead to pain or failure?

Why do we walk into traps when the Lord has so easily given us a way out? Why do we ignore the advice of others selfishly and end up regretting it…

Stubborn independence brings pain, suffering, broken promises, hurt, anger, regret and more. What does it take to say, “yes, You know better than I?”

Little Mexican Fishing Village

I read a friend’s post today about mourning her MK past. It reminded me of a lot of feelings I’ve had over the years about missing the past…reminded me of a poem I wrote a few years back too…

Little Mexican fishing village

Little Mexican fishing village down by the sea

Little Mexican fishing village loved by you and me

We lived our lives, dealt with strife

We thanked God for prosperity…

But times changed, as they are apt to do

Times, changed, greatly affecting me and you

Change brought horses, carriages, money

Things we just can’t live without

Machines, communication, progress

They called it…

Even though drugs and diseases came, too.

Tis said Saint Luke is more progressed

I say Saint Joe’s just fine.

At least it was…

But now, the paleteria’s been painted.

The plaza’s been re-vamped.

And now, for the first time in my life,

The town clock tells the time.

Connection Break

Today, as I tried and failed to revive a dying Facebook chat session, I was reminded of another kind of break in connections. A friendship connection.

I have made so many friends over the years. Illinois, Pennsylvania, California, and Mexico for the most part are sprinkled with friends, family, and acquaintances.  I want to be on a close friend basis with every single one of them…to be there for them and to know what they are going through.

But I can’t. I rely on broken and repaired connections to get me along the social calendar of life.

I hope heaven is like being best friends with everyone. Knowing everything that is going on in their lives and living alongside like that… No, I don’t think so.

I’ll bet it’s better!!

A Prayer for the Abuser

Today, I was frustrated with myself for the anger I felt inside because of the abuse of a friend. There was something I knew I had to do …so I wrote a poem about it. And then I did it. This is one of the most edgy poems I think I’ve written in a long time. I wrote it not only for just this one case, but for all those out there who have been abused in some way.

The fact of the fact that the memory of him

Makes you miserable and hurt

Makes me angry and frustrated

Makes me want to politely yet firmly

Punch him to kingdom come

Makes me bitter, makes me hate

Makes me say things

That berate him

Cuz I’m angry

Cuz I’m confused

Cuz I think he is secretly bemused at his

Deceptive, degenerative, corruptive power

Even though I’m not the one who’s been

Twisted, abused, and belittled

If my spirit were my hands

It t’would be shaking

I cry out!

God, why?

I seek no answer, but I do

I wish I knew, but I

Don’t ever

Tell me he was nice, don’t tell me he had been caring

T’were it true, there would be a whole you

Not burned, crying, and suffering

I know what I have to do.

I don’t want to.

Yet, I know there is only one thing that will free me from this passionate almost-hate

I believe it will heal me, and is the only thing that will eventually heal you…

So, with a deep breath, and in a whisper

I am saying a prayer for your abuser.

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