Saturday, January 22, 2011

primordial grief...

... read something yesterday which struck a deep note for me.

have you ever wondered what Eve felt in the garden after she ate and gave Adam to eat? have you ever wondered what she felt when God came looking for them and found them hiding?

have you ever wondered…

… how she felt when she/they knew they were naked? [and by the way, who told them they were naked?]

… what she felt when the reality of what had happened... what they had done?... what.. she.. had done?... began to break through to her?

… what she felt when the loss of Eden came crashing in on her?

forget the loaded-ness of the Genesis story... think for a moment what it would feel like knowing that in a time of weakness - because of a very crooked place within… a place where healing and restoration was yet to be worked - a decision was made which put your loved ones in a place of difficulty for the rest of their lives.

have you ever made such a decision? i have.

as i read about that grief immeasurable and bleak… Eve’s grief in the Garden and after… when the full weight of what she had done bore in on her, i felt that grief… i knew that grief, even if only in part… I shared that grief and my heart broke for her.

He is bringing me through it - i trust He brought her through it, too.

even though i walk through a valley deep and dark… He is with me.

Friday, January 21, 2011

can we be friends?

ever been presented the opportunity to connect with a person completely - in every way, except being alive - different?

what do we do with that opportunity?

ignore it?

approach with fear?

demand the other change?

attempt to change ourselves in order to be attractive to the other?

get approval from some authority before we let 'them' into our lives?

here’s a thought - maybe we could just be who we are - with no pretense, demands or agenda - and welcome them in.

could be life-changing for both - in a very good way.

photo courtesy Sheryl Senter Hackett Matters

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

He is kind...

Last Wednesday my neighbor left a message on my phone to call her. I could tell by her voice that it wasn't just a chat she was wanting.

This is the wonderful story she shared.

About 20 years or so ago, my neighbor Susan had a friend, Marilyn, who lived in an apartment about a block and half away. Marilyn had a great, friendly dog who loved to play with Susan’s kids. She - the dog - would come up the hill for a visit every day while Marilyn was at work. Susan and kids would take care of the dog when Marilyn was away.

The dog jogged with Susan every day.

One day, while they were jogging, a car hit the dog. My neighbor held her in her arms as the precious companion died. Needless to say, she was heart-broken.

A few years later, Marilyn moved away from the village into the city. She and Susan kept in touch, but not as before.

On Wednesday, Susan was running errands in the city and, on the way home, spontaneously decided to change her route to pick up something for supper.

The street she turned onto had quite a bit of going-home traffic and there, running down the street dragging her leash behind her was a very frightened little dog. The cars were avoiding her as best they could - slowing down, swerving and honking of horns, etc.

Susan was able to pull over. She called to the dog and prayed and called and prayed. Finally, the dog ran to her, miraculously dodging between cars.

The dog let Susan scoop her up and get into her car; there was a tag on the collar - oddly from a vet here in the village.

Just as Susan was beginning to call the vet, a van pulled up behind Susan, the driver honking the horn for all she was worth.

The driver piled out of her van and ran to Susan’s car; as Susan got out of her car, of course they both knew the other - old friends - Susan and Marilyn. It was Marilyn’s dog.

Susan, who had never been able to forget the death of the first dog, was now able to save and return a beloved pet to the very same friend - and Marilyn was able to receive alive her dog - from the same friend.

The gentle kindness of Father - His redemption of sadness from so long ago.