Really struggled with this one. Feels like I’m back at my unwillingness to share….
Usually you hear this word and think razor sharp intentions; that would be positive. Then there are those of us who seem to be focused on, with razor sharp intentions, the wrong things in life. That would be me.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day and I hope it was wonderful for all the ladies who celebrate it. I don’t, and haven’t been to church on that day in 15 years. I’ll start by answering the first couple of questions that probably popped up. No, there’s no pain when I think of my mom anymore. No, I’m not so bitter that I can’t celebrate with others because of my loss. And No, I’m not overwhelmed that I’m not a mother myself. Give up yet? Ready for the truth? It’s the holiday I give myself permission to be 100% authentic….about how I feel about everything. It’s personal, No One is invited to partake in these thoughts and by the time this day comes, I really need it. Maybe I’m selfish; I can celebrate with you, lament with you, pray with you and eat with you, but I can not reveal the inside of my heart.
I remember the night before my mom died and she was in the “surge” stage of death. It’s that time where the person perks up and seems like it’ll all be ok. She had visitors galore and while I was wishing them away, that moment gave me false hope that she was gonna get better. The surge passed and once again we were at deaths’ door. I remember looking up and seeing 4 generations of my friend’s family. Her grandmother, mother, her and her daughter. I won’t bore you with details, but the anguish was so deep and spiritual that I felt the crack that separated me from God begin that night. This was a fissure that would grow and extend with every little buried emotion I would experience from that moment on.
Over the years the chasm has widened to unbelievable proportions and the ability to cross over it seems beyond impossible. Whereas God has placed the Cross of Calvary at my every stop to remind me that I can cross over; and the Blood of Christ fills the area beneath the bridge, so if I fall I’m not only covered in blood, but I still have a way back to my journeys’ path. But I find myself constantly trying to figure out where the crack got so big that skipping over it was no longer an option.
I figured it out…..
It was at the beginning