Sometimes, I need to pick out the good feeling stuff and pitch out the yucky stuff, even though all of it is there, right at the surface, joy is what I need. For some reason my minds eye just pictured separating an egg. The parts that can be eaten are inside of the eggshell, all together. When it is poured into the egg separater, the part that has no color falls away, leaving you a golden yellow "nugget"...this may be joy!
"Especially rich are incidents and images stored away that you aren't sure ever actually occurred; dreams or stories someone has spoken of so many times that they're engraved as past realities"
The above is a quote taken from deAnn's post about this writing exercise. I copied it here because it speaks to what I want to write about. So...here goes...I remember being a child, probably about 5 or 6 yrs old. My father sang in a Barber Shop ensemble. He had the most amazing tenor voice. I used to think he was the best singer in the whole world. I remember, and still picture it in my mind, when he used to sing me to sleep every night. I do not recall what the songs were then, but I do remember a song that he used to sing to me when I was older. It went something like this "little eyes I love you, little eyes I love you, love you in the spring and in the fall, little eyes I love you, little eyes I love you, love you best of all" I can still see his face when he would sing in a whisper type voice. This would be a really sweet story...if in fact...it were true. Unfortunately, its not. After years of telling this story, over and over again, I was confronted by my sister and brother and told to stop telling lies, "our father never sang you to sleep, he was never home". I was fortunate enough though, when I was an adult, to be able to confront my father with this "vision" and he confirmed my fear, that it was all made up...by me. Although this was tuff to hear, at least he told me the truth and took some responsibility. He had no way to explain to me though...how I could..and still can by the way, see this vision so clearly and also to hear his voice. I have determined that since this was a great comfort to me, it must have been God himself, there is just no other explaination. I have other memories from my childhood that I wonder from time to time...was that real? What I have determined is...it doesnt really matter. The memories that I have from alot of my adult life are a bit blurry sometimes, but what came from living a childhood of made up stories, it taught me as an adult to really pay attention to everything, so that my reality isnt in question. I do still, struggle from time to time with other people who want to question my reality, it has caused me to be more aware and more contemplative.
"And the veil just lifted
I can finally understand
The way you work in me
But even if I didn't
You are still a sovereign God
Who has a plan for me"
The above is a verse from a song by Sara Groves. It speaks volumes to me, so....instead of trying to put this into my own words at this moment, I thought I'd just quote it for now.
I find it hard
Very hard
To hear you today
I see it blurry
Very blurry
Your kind face
I feel it quickly
Very quickly
My anger and temper
Where are you?
Very hidden
I cant find you today
You are there
Very there
But where?
In the shadow of my brokenness
Perhaps?
I cant see past this veil now
Plunging into gracelessness
Its dark here
I see red and black
Jesus?
Rumbling, sometimes loud, sometimes softly
First one…then another…then many
Making the individual sounds combine to a loud buzzing of sorts
Like a Barbershop ensemble
Or maybe more like a choir
Each having its own part to make up the harmony
A sea of chrome and bodies
brightly colored paintings
On various canvases to show individuality, but also harmony
The predominate covering color is black
Adorned with patches and pins
Still creating a painting to show allegiance to a brotherhood
Lost and searching souls
Some are dark, despite the bright colors
Others have a glimmer of light in their eyes, searching to belong amongst the paintings
All are children of God
Brightly colored in character as well as body
They try to shield their brightness, cloaked in black…but we the faithful can see their beauty….beneath the cloak of darkness
The following is a comment to a post by Deb on the Sacred Encounters blogsite. I wanted to post it here on my site, as a reminder to me. Check out the writing for today on her site...it is fabulous...thanks Deb!
Regret/splinters....what a wonderful analagy. It amazes me still how God teaches me. Maybe not so much the lesson, but how. For the last several years, God has been showing me my "splinters" (I used to call them defects of character, I like splinters better, its softer!) Its not that I didnt know they were there, I felt them when the affected area was pushed on, but often let them be, until they became infected, swollen and really really sore. Then, would get out the needle and start digging. After a great amount of pain, the splinter would be removed and anticeptic would be placed on the wound. Its like that, with my deep life issues...Gods healing anticeptic is the cure. There are other times, when I see the splinter, run quickly to get the tweesers, get to work at pulling on the part that is exposed, and in my haste, break off the peice that I can see, leaving the balk of the problem, still imbedded. Im starting to understand, that God is showing me this peice, so I can carefully, but with diligence and time, pull out the splinter. He doesnt show these to me so I can quickly get to work to get rid of the problem, He wants me to learn a lesson in the process, so that hopefully, the next time I get a splinter, I can handle it...the way He wants me to. My friend and previous growth group member, Gloria, passed away last week. I am dealing with the splinter of regret as it relates to what kind of friend I was to her. Forgiveness will be my anticeptic.
As I sit here in my room
My thoughts are all of you
My world is so much better
Now that Im with you
I think you know how I feel
I think its very clear
You're on my mind, all the time
It's losing you I fear
How can I tell you
The things Id like to say
How can I explain to you
My feelings everyday
by Jane Coffman
I wrote this little song in 1975. Im quite sure it was for a boyfriend then, but it speaks to me today about the relationship I have with my Savior, not so much "how can I tell you, but "my world is such much better, now that Im with you" and "its losing you I fear"
