Tearbitten

News of a dear soul passing to heaven reached me early this morning--the third of such people in recent days and weeks. I spent my waking hours tearbitten.

Tearbitten is my new word. I saw a word from scripture translated as hungerbitten. It doesn't need much definition, does it? Those hunger pangs nibble and bite. That's how tears feel this morning, a cry in response to the heart pangs.

Now I will say that the joyful side of heavenly entrance is very much a reality. And my tears are definitely selfish. I know this. :-) There is a beauty that resonates of a much different nature on that side of the scale.

If my cries could have resurrected someone, I would welcome that! They didn't even rouse my cat. It was all my soul pouring itself out. I'm not sure what I even want to say about that other than I want to write about it, and this is simply a draft at the moment. I may just need to acknowledge the moment while I can.

Something unfinished ... that's the ragged edge to my tears. Not just this morning, but in all three recent situations. For each one, my heart had previously been wanting to reach out--specifically, I wanted to write a letter (or text in one case). Regrets of the undone are the pangs, the piercings, the haunting sharpness.

Why am I so slow to respond? Why do I bow to procrastination? When did it get power in my life? Since when is my piddly day more important than reaching out to another human heart? Why am I timid about it?

Maybe the whys aren't important. Maybe just my recognition and awakening to this awful inversion is what counts.

I took it to the Lord in communion this morning. I judged myself of not following my inner urge to write when I could have shared my heart while a person was alive. (Not that my heart was important! Dear me. No! But that another person's life is important, and for me to take the time to acknowledge that and express my thankfulness for them.)

As I was trying to find words for a new commitment I could make with the Lord's help, I wondered silently why it was even a hint of a problem for me as I had a flashback to the times when letters from me were unfettered--free and lengthy outpourings of my heart. In that moment as if in response, I also recalled many experiences that targeted my words, hurt deeply, and caused me to restrain or second-guess (ultimately silencing) myself.

It answered my why.

As I sat with my communion elements, this time the breaking of the bread took on the significance of breaking that power over me. The body of my Lord broken for this ... for freedom from self-intimidation. After judging myself, I asked for forgiveness. I forgave those who contributed to the pressure that I responded to and shut myself down. I declared that power broken in my life. All in a gentle atmosphere of humility--acknowledging that I have no power in myself, but it's all God's doing and I welcome His work in my life to bring change, spark life, and spread His love.

I'm seeing such value (and challenge) in connection. We sure do need one another.

I want to look back and say that today is the day I leveled-up in life when it came to other people. It's another chip in the hermit-wishes (my mind gravitates toward being a hermit)! But most importantly, it's another day to step into the world bravely and see the hearts around me. It's another day to pick up my pen, put it to beautiful paper, and celebrate someone's life.

Toeholds and Saplings

Toeholds and saplings ... small but determined holdings.

Sunday I felt a toehold in my soul and it was the sunshine of my day.  Then Sunday night it seemed as if all was demolished.  Like the day in the Secret Garden when we felled these trees and cleaned the branches.  Before you knew it, the slender branches and trunks were lying in piles.  The "destruction" was quick ... but it was a good thing.

They had been taken from areas where they were intruding, laid to the ground, stripped and sectioned ... ready to be used.  These beautiful and bare branches just hours before reaching to the sky but draining the soil where the grew wild were now the building blocks of restoration and design.

They were put up, taken down, reworked, redesigned, and after all the prototypes were built and torn down, found their place in the project as the centerpiece of serenity adorned with art.

Tonight that sunshine moment started to peek through again.  That toehold in my soul which was the first glimmer after months wasn't extinguished long.  And even if it was torn down in repeated swaths of broken hearts around me, it is an opportunity to prepare the fallen ... to clean and make beautifully bare these new building blocks life created from the things that were growing where they were never meant to grow.

It's like beauty from ashes.  Maybe my life will be a picture of this ... and end up in the centerpiece of a clever, efficient design bearing the artwork of many hands and bringing serenity to the future.

Coming up for air ...

1-2-3 ... ready ... breathe!  I'm never good about coming up for air in real life, but I'm going to make myself take a moment to do so.  Thanks to social media and other mobile technology, my family should at least know I'm alive!

The work roller coaster is approaching the crest and I'm about to go on a wild ride for a few months.  My eyes are crossing as my to-do lists are getting longer.  And not always so sure I'm on top of the big changes in my personal life.  *SIGH*  I've even taken to writing lists on my windows with whiteboard markers.

All those creative endeavors I was so sure I would lean on for expression while changing course are mostly lying at the wayside ... writing, photography, music, paper making, useful DIY projects (like making my own laundry detergent and essential oil dryer sheets), even just basic scrapbooking (I have TUBS and TUBS of memorabilia I need to commemorate somehow) all just make me feel tired, and thus they lie undone.

Even now, as much as I feel like I should be writing something significant, I'm mostly doing this so I can uncross my eyes and come at my monster work project again with clearer vision.  And yet, maybe that's my lesson.

I need to come up for air (and sleeping doesn't count)!

Silence and Apologies

To my family whom I dearly love ... I apologize for my holiday silences.  It will be better (soon, I hope).  Thank you to those who have reached out to me - even if I haven't responded (yet).

Happy New Year (by definition)

Here's hoping ... sigh ... the New Year hasn't seemed all bright and shiny or even festive yet.

This morning at church, a great emphasis was placed on the word "new" and the message was largely about fasting (before we launch into our 21 day fast - giving up something natural in pursuit of something supernatural).  By the end of the service, the hole in my heart wasn't throbbing as bad as it was when I arrived.

By definition, "NEW" means "taking the place of one that came before."  That would probably be an understatement this year.  2012 is new. It's taking the place of 2011.  But there is much else that qualifies as "new." New relational status. New home. New family dynamic. New questions. New pursuits (or the lack thereof).

What I don't know is what exactly will take the place of "one that came before" in most anything in my life right now.