WRITE IT: In the Valley of Sheep ~ It is here David
learns to depend on God. Are you here now? Do you feel unnoticed and
like your assignment is not important? After reading this chapter of Limitless Life, how has your perspective changed?
Sadly I have felt for a very long time like I am unnoticed and that I have no purpose in life. I am starting to understand that I have spent my life living in the shadow of my mother. These past two days in addition to reading Limitless Life, I have found and been reading conversations/letters between my parents. And in this process... I have found myself questioning and learning.
You see, when I was younger, I found an old journal of my mother's. At that point in my life reading the words she wrote changed me. You see, my mother wrote about the fact that she wished, when I was 4 years old, that I had never been born. It went on to inform me that she felt that it was sad that she didn't have the choice on my being born. I was born month before Roe v. Wade. The conversation continued down the path that my birth had forced her to stay married to my father. And that having me, had forced her to abandon her dreams for life and the future. And to me, it seemed like I was the biggest mistake in the world that she ever had to deal with.
I carried this fact in my heart for years. It clouded my relationships, because I was unloved and unwanted. It made me struggle to prove to my mother that I was worthy of her love. And in many ways it was intensified by the fact that I could see so clearly how my brother was wanted, cherished, and loved. And add to that the fact that it wasn't just my parents showing that, it was our whole extended family. It made me feel that I wasn't just a mistake because I was born, but that it was also because I was a girl. And yet I am the eldest in a long line eldest daughters, many whom are also the first borne in the line of children.
These facts that I had read have burrowed deep in my heart, and I realize they are the same thing that is being spoken in the Limitless Life. He might share that in the words of Afraid or Addict, but in my heart they are written in the story. And in starting to see this... I started to be overrun with questions. And yet how does one find the answers when the one person you could ask had just died.
And then in the process of starting to pack and move. I found the letters my parents wrote to each other for years as they participated in Marriage Encounter. And while I know these letters were written to keep an open dialogue between my parents, with them both dead, I wondered if it might not hold the key to start to understand why my mother would have preferred that I never be born.
So, I opened them up and started to read. The more I read the more I began to understand that my mother was caught in the trap of labels. They were buried so deep in her heart that she herself felt that she was unworthy of life, love, and even God. She was trying to prove to God that she was worthy of His love. And the more I read, the more I began to understand what was being spoken not just in her own writings, but also in Limitless Life. And God started to speak to me... How could she love her daughter, when she couldn't love the life He had given her? How could she know unconditional love, when all she had known was proving love to her parents and to God? And without the presence of God, there is no question in my mind that her trying to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders became her failure.
I am not saying that she didn't raise me right. Or neglected me. I just know that as she was trying to figure out how God loved her, she focused on works and questioned faith, and in the end couldn't figure out the balance to know that she was loved by God. And that walk alone mirrored my walk in trying to prove to her that I was worthy of her love. And when she was looking to figure out a reason why she couldn't cherish the fact that my father loved her, she sought me out and since I was the biggest change in her life I was the easiest person to blame.
In reading, it saddens my heart because of the fact that my ability to prove myself worthy of her love, my ability to succeeded in life, all my high points... they were the reason that she felt she had worth. And in placing her worth on her child, who being human, was bound to make mistakes... It created a cycle that she never really could escape. If my focus was not on her 100% of the time, she was a failure. And it made me struggle to find my voice and focus in life. Each action in my life determined if I was coming home to a mother who would be thankful and happy, or a mother who was a small step away from killing herself and/or walking out the door on her family. And a mother who couldn't figure out God in her own mind, and questioned faith, works, and different churches... It is understandable that the very reason for her to value herself, would struggle to find a purpose and feel unnoticed.
This past week has started to bring about a change in my perspective. I am still not sure where this is all leading me, but closer to God would be my prayer. And in some ways it is going to take some time and more love from God to feel comfortable being noticed, and to find a purpose and the trust to step out of the dysfunction that I grew up in and commit to do what God has planned for me.
Most of my life has been full of good-byes. And in the morning I will say good-bye to my brother. Growing up he was always the thorn in my side. And yet often he didn't realize that I grew up jealous of the freedoms that he had. And yet I learned this past week of how much he grew up hating being in my shadow. And labels on us both are what drove our perceptions. Smart, stupid, girl, boy, artistic, serious, even the jokester. Each label drove us apart, until in the end the labels created a wall between us. So much that the feud that started kept us apart for the last 10 years.
The sad part of this whole feud is the fact that when my brother and I reached so far inside of our souls and had finished throwing pain at each other... we came to realize that in the end our feud was started by a lack of communication. And the biggest issue was that we were both listening to our mother and she fed us a whole bunch of shit about each other. In this process we came to learn that somehow our mother blamed us both for our father's death. And to add to it, my sinful nature which God is slowly changing managed to make more muck than I ever knew it could. And in this process I came to see how a simple answer to a question of faith can have an impact beyond what you even can understand. And while we as Christians acknowledge that we are human and make mistakes... those around us can sadly hold onto one simple sentence and feel that it is the definition of our faith. And yet the issue that the believe defines us, often is just a pinch of salt on our walk with God.
You see we may understand that the message of God is Love. And yet those around us can only see what divides it. Issues on pictures, idols, sexuality, compassion, and more than I can ever think about. These issues are dividing us, when we need each other. Because one thing about being a daughter of Christ, I know that I need compassion for my own brother... And while I can understand this, it was something that my brother didn't see. And it wasn't that there was anything wrong with my brother. It was simply the fact that we were not speaking the same language of love. And when we are called to be transformed, we also need to take the time to step back and learn the love language of those we need the most, our family.
And maybe in these past few days... what seems to be good-bye, just might turn into a new beginning of the relationship we let fall apart for all the wrong reasons. And I pray that I can show the love that I am called to share, because my brother is a very important part of my life, even when he is a thorn in my side. I wouldn't know what I would do without him to try so hard to make me laugh...
COMMUNITY – What does community mean to you? What do you need from community? What can you give to community?
I have spent a great deal of struggling with this idea. And yet in these past few weeks I have a greater understanding of what community can be. You see, community is a group of people who care about you and are willing to listen. And in belonging to the community, you can also reach out and listen. Funny is that the most simple thing I have found that I have needed to be given by community is the reminder of where our focus needs to be.
I have spent much of my life caught in a cycle of pain, and the smallest act of remembering that I am a child of God. And that memory drives me nuts... always trying to remember this is hard. Yet in these past months since I have joined the Proverbs 31 On-line Bible Studies... I have found a community of women that love me despite me... And are willing to walk beside me from where they sit. And are also willing to share their walk with me.
The most exciting thing about it... is that I can listen to others, pray for others, and so many other things. And with each small step... I feel I belong somewhere.
And yet it is also a journey. Each one step that I take, allows me to learn to take some small risks. And have also felt more secure in letting my church into my world, and not just my pastor.
Honestly I found that I have had no time to write in these past two months. And while that is so very unlike me. My focus had been not on myself, but on the needs of my mother. And in this process I have learned a new language... the language of death.
You see a mother and daughter pass thru so many stages as the daughter grows up. And we were just learning to use the same language. And then I was forced to walk a path, that I had prayed would take years to come. And yet God had other plans for us both. Those plans were a walk on a path that would challenge not just me, but also my mother.
This path started with defining the boundaries of her language of death. This was done with her life long partner, my father, just when I was about to graduate from college. Lately we have heard a lot about this process. You see, there are people who believe the discussion of this process implies that as you age you are expendable. And yet I learned in this process what my parents considered to be a natural death. And what choices they were comfortable with in conjunction with their faith.
Yet, having established these boundaries of the language... it was years before this language would again enter our voices. It sat for many years locked in a box, collecting dust. It would sit there thru my wedding and the change of my name. It would sit there thru the death of my father. And it would even sit there thru moving and the birth of my daughter. And yet one day when my munchkin was about 18 months old... I had to open that box and sort thru memories and find the boundaries of our language of love. And time does have a way of putting the language out of our minds.
You see, when I sat down and read the boundaries, I felt trapped. For the first time I realized that what choices I could make in the name of love, for my mother, left me feeling trapped. The guidelines were so much more confining that I had ever thought. Basic advances in medical science were not allowed... I couldn't authorize the use of any instrument that would cut into my mother's skin. And in many ways I had to be ready to let her go, even when my heart would beg to let her live. Because life sustaining measures were limited to food and water. You see, sometimes the language you are left with will tear you into two. Because you are not allowed to think about what you want to do. You must in love abide by the wishes of the person who is sharing this special language with you.
When the language was first shared, in God's will, I was able to make choices that kept my mother alive. It was not her time, but it was a challenge on the relationships in our family. When one person exerts a level of parenting over a parent, other children can get upset. And I still don't blame my brother for being upset. I thought she was going to die. And yet while she isn't die, we were put on a path where that language was always in the back of my mind. And one of the reasons was, she was never the same. Instead of being able to get up and just do what she wanted... she was now walking with a walker. And over the next four years her mobility would slowly disappear. And in that disappearance... she would make real the new language we needed to speak.
These past six months, the language of death has seemed to haunt me. It was spoken by doctors in words of CHF, and kidney failure. It was sent in the mail, with bills and more appointments that I could keep track of. And the simple fact that conversations that use to challenge my mother's mind, seemed to be beyond her comprehension. And yet the language of death was there, while we were still trying to use the language of our many stages in our relationship. And in many ways it broke my heart the day I had to call an ambulance to send her to the hospital, because she couldn't walk, let alone stand up. Her need for care went beyond my ability. And yet that was the start of our final walk with the language of death.
From that day that she was taken out of her house and went to the hospital... she never would set foot back in. We walked a path as we found a nursing home for her to attempt to get back on her feet. And each step on this path found my realization that my mother was dying. And in front of us were discussions that we would never share again. And in the end I honored her wish of dignity in death. When it became clear that she wasn't going to improve... I stopped her bouncing back and forth between the home and the hospital. I did my best to visit her, despite the distance. And attempted to make sure she was comfortable and felt at home.
And yet, I was still not ready for the last words of the language of death... Her death.
