So, for some reason today I went to look up the definition to value... Merriam-Webster. And it surprised me that most of the definition of value is related to money. Or into rating something. It was only in the end that it related to usefulness. And then the synonyms caught my eye... appreciate, cherish, prize, treasure, love. I found this interesting. Mostly because we tend to treasure money. And yet in my mind money is a necessary evil. And in a world where we tend to place more worth on what we have and what we desire. But then it makes me wonder if I am desired...
I am trying to understand this...
If you were to ask the man I married so many years ago... You would see that I only have the value to set him free of me, and allow him to move forward in his life, without me.
If you were to ask our child... I have great value in the simple fact that I am her mother. And she is a blessing to me, granted by God. And I have even more value to her when root beer floats are on the table.
If you were to ask my family... I am a failure. And that is from the ones still living. And I am wishing I knew the answer of value in those of my family who are gone. Yet messaging to heaven isn't working the way to allow us to know those who are gone. Yes, we still can hear God.
And yet, I am trying to understand. And that is a challenge for me, because I still see myself as damaged. And yet in the midst of my doubt, I am seeing a light. And finding that light would seem like an accident to most people. Because the light was found in a manner when I didn't even know I was looking for it.
A year ago, after having spent some wonderful time with my baby at church camp, and a music festival... my mother felt abandoned. And in that process my mother made a choice, like she had done so often in my past... And that choice was that we needed to go. She wouldn't allow me to sacrifice my relationship with baby at the expense of helping others. And yet it was my relationship with my baby that was focused on during that time.
So we packed up and went back into shelter... and that also sent us on a path that took us thru the doors of another church, since I didn't want to drive back to what was then our home church. And then our pastor, gave us a direction. And given that where we were there are four churches in the denomination. So, on Sunday Morning afraid to be late... I got to church early. So early that we brought our breakfast with us, because I was afraid if we ate first I would have a sick child. And that would mean spare clothes, and more thought than I could bear that morning.
Arriving early I was surprised to have found the door open. And as quiet as we could, we looked around to find a safe place to sit and wait until church started. And we were just getting settled and thinking about breakfast, and all of a sudden we were greeted by someone. And at that point, just the fact that a man was talking to us seemed to send my heart looking for an exit. And yet a part of me was paralyzed. And yet even in that first meeting... I saw love.
Here was someone that I didn't know, who didn't yell or scream that we were early for church. Okay he seemed a bit surprised. And was trying to figure out why or what we were going to do with the time that we had to wait until church started. And he was even more surprised to find out that we were going to eat peanut butter crackers for breakfast. And somehow he convinced us to come with him and he took us to eat breakfast. He didn't stay, but took us to the place and paid for our breakfast. And I think that I gave in because of my baby. And because I also think I was not going to win in this argument that morning. It is hard to argue against kindness and love.
So that morning, at a point where I felt so damaged... there we were eating chocolate chip pancakes with bacon... and all I could do is wonder why someone would want to make me feel special.
And yet that day... I began to see in other ways where I was being served. My baby was convinced that she wanted to go to Children's Church. And for some reason... off she went. And there I was left standing. I felt like a lost child, because I was so use to being in church with my baby. And then I felt like I was seeing someone I knew. And yet in many ways... I couldn't put a finger on how or where I knew her from. In the end she broke the ice, and reminded me that she meet me at church camp. And then I was taken in hand...
In the course of the summer... I went back to help my mother. And yet the pull towards that church was so strong, that by the fall I became a member. And in the process I was encouraged to talk to that man who had that first day shown us love. The funny of it is he is my pastor. And over this past year he has been the person who has shown me that I have value. In many ways... while I can see my value in his treatment of me... I struggle to see it in myself. I ask myself how when I am damaged in so many ways can I have value? I can't hold a job... I can raise my baby, but that won't last forever... And I write.
I spend hours writing e-mails to my pastor. And then can still write here and pour out my soul... wondering if it means that I have value. And while I have faith. Faith that God works all things for good... I struggle so hard to understand what is to come. And yet I must trust. And for now, it helps to have someone to share my struggles and give a voice to all that I have seen and lived thru. And in this process I may not yet understand my value, but the past is not haunting me in my sleep.
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