Monday, April 2, 2012

Remembering the sutures on my heart

I remember every card and word whispered in my ears in the grief of loss of my firstborn son, Benjamin. They are used by the Holy Spirit often to spatula my emotions off of the precipice. The small cards and the big cards the pieces of paper and the glances of compassion, all seemed to burn and ache in the days following his death. Every touch, every good thought, every emotion was an ouchy. Some doctrines got through. I remember noticing the angels running interception in the family interactions. Some words that should have hurt seemed to be shielded completely from even getting to me. All I wanted to do was forget. ie. Forget good things, forget creature comforts, forget my body, because it was his house and his nutrition and forget God, because He took him. There is no way out of that crazy cycle.

I couldn't sleep and I couldn't stay awake, I just stayed in a dream state of ambivalence of life. I worshipped, because it was a discipline of my life. I gave the sacrifice of praise. In worship and at the cemetery was the closest that I felt to my baby. I couldn't go to him and there was no comfort in the things that remained. Many nights of tears I held my remaining baby in my lap and sang to Jesus.

The scrap book of the words of comfort lasted for years. Now, they are memorized. I haven't got the book anymore. A few scrap papers lasted. I have the tattered remains of Pastor Blaize's letter, with his handwritten reminder of "God Moves in a Mysterious Way".

I remember looking up to see if I could see the clouds of grief bursting with blessings on my head. It just looked dark. I know now that my heart was in the hand of God and that He used the hymns to suture the tears and splits. I am grateful for every single good thought. The doctrinal ones and the hedonistic ones, as well. God is still good and He shows the ineptitude of human comforts in grief, So that we will not miss the only real healing there is. The words of people are so vain, even the best words are bandaids, when the cut is deep, only the Spirit of God can suture well the spiritual injury.

My wounds open up and bleed from time to time and probably will until Heaven. But God never says, will you get over it already, like people do. He always puts you on the table and pulls out the box and sews you up again.

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sov’reign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flow’r.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

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Title- The Studious One!

Title-  The Studious One!
artwork by Elyse

Of biscuits and syrup

Of biscuits and syrup
tasty treats

Happy Saturday!

Happy Saturday!
a day at the Raptor Center.

Widdle Emmie in outer space school

Emmie jumped on the bus and off it flew out into the atmosphere. There was a set of clouds with turbulence right above the house and it took a few minutes for my Emmie to buckle her seatbelt. They hit the bump hard and it knocked my Emmie out of her seat and she bumped her head. The video camera came on and the monitor looked through and stated, Ms. Emmie, where are you? You are not in your seat. Where are you? I am alright I fell because I hadn’t buckled correctly. Well jump up Emmie we have a long way to go and you have to be buckled there is entirely too much turbulence in the stratosphere for you to unbuckle now. As soon as we are through this weather system there will be straight sailing but right now you must buckle. Emmie scrambled into the seat with intensity and purpose now. She watched every cloud pass her window and her nose was pressed to the window trying to see the top of the house as it drifted slowly out of sight. Soon they were not only out of sight of the house, the sun came out brightly and just as quickly they were putting on the atmospherical breathing apparatus and the outerspherical lights. The ABA and the OL. These precautions were to make them appear to be satellites to the radar as they were out in the ionosphere. Emmie knew all about this now. She had gone to the orientation and had a good breakfast and it took them 20 minutes for her to get out past the atmospherical pull and to feel the zero gravity. It would be 15 minutes before the gravity simulators would take effect, a glitch in the system which was being worked on. Until then, they enjoyed the couple of minutes of floatation, while being connected to the seats by belt. The first thing they saw everyday was the strataflotsam. The items which had been dumped into the atmosphere by earlier generations. What would their generation do about this ecological waste area that remained floating above their heads? This was a question for the generations. For now it was the area that they had to guide through on the way to school.

Midnight at the OASIS

Midnight at the OASIS
Sunset in Huntersville

My little Emmie

ran to the bus on the first day of the last year of school. 2 buns on the side of her head. She kissed me and ran at dawn to the bus. She was starting the adventure of a lifetime. I would never see that little girl again, she was going to woman school!

My Father and I 1989

My Father and I 1989

to the tune of Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme


Are you going to Mary Immaculate?

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

Remember me to the one who lived there,

He once was a true love of mine,

Tell him to buy me an acre of land,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

Between the muddy Hudson in Jamaica Bay,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine,

Tell him to sow in it seeds of pure cream,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

And build Ice cream mountains and buildings of whipped cream,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine,

Tell him to reap them with sickles of M&M’s,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

And chew bubble gum and eat till we’re done,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine.

Tell him to run it off down the motor parkway,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

After your done 50 pushups

and jog down the West Side Highway,

Then he’ll be a true love of mine…

(Don’t wait for me today dad, The kids are sick again, My tummy’s bulging again, My heart is aching again, And now there’s no love there…)

He once was, a true love of mine….So, Girls, I do beg you don't miss your Daddy,Apricots, Chocolate cherries and Pie,You have one short chance to see him on this side, Go visit him and let your light shine.