From the moment I aroused from sleep and my mind began to percolate with picking up where I left off last night with so much… The familiar flavor of fear and dread permeated my slowly waking consciousness…I suppose it is somewhere around day #823 of my technical post divorce recovery journey…
But battles such as I’m facing didn’t start on that day.
And some have a much much longer repetition and trajectory.
Be kind because you never know what battles someone is facing. A saying we’ve heard a lot.
Thinking about some Ukrainian refugees which may make it to our soil – for some this may also mean that they will never ever ever step on their Homeland soil again and will be permanently severed from friends and loved ones, children, grandchildren and maybe even spouses.
They have lost their home, their livelihood, and much much more.
As I put my feet on the floor and prepared to make coffee and other things I wondered what song should I listen to this day to get me through?
At a loss I just clicked my acapella worship playlist in Spotify which now probably includes 50 pieces – some of which aren’t acapella but are quality versions of meaningful spiritual songs.
It is random which song on this list might begin the round.
It was an acapella version of this hymn that I recall adding around Thanksgiving. YOU ARE BLESSED ON YOUR WAY…
On YouTube I found this version which is also quite lovely.
“Who from our mother’s arms has blessed us on our way”
is an idea that speaks to me especially given my own situation.
On my blog I have begun to relate some of my life stories especially going back to my early childhood. The other night in conversation with a friend I related an incident with my mother during one of the numerous times I had to involve police to have her taken from her home and involuntarily committed to the Delaware State hospital. During this episode she became highly physically strong and combative, blocking my exit from the back door of my childhood kitchen.Her words to me were:
“I wish I had never conceived you, you are a terror.”
I’m aware that there are critiques of me and my expressions wondering why seemingly all roads lead back to my mother. That may be a fair question but I would add, perhaps all roads lead back to my father whom I kissed his stone cold waxen face two evenings before my 16th birthday at a funeral parlor in Boonsboro, Maryland.
The funeral director had to convince my mother to leave me alone in the room with the casket and give me some privacy, since we were told they would close it, drape it with a military flag, and at the funeral the day before my 16th birthday it would not be opened again.
So here I am, almost 59 years old, with a number of even close friends not nearly knowing even half of my story.
My own children not nearly knowing half of the details… Not that details matter.
Right?
Somehow God has indeed blessed me on my way from my mother’s arms… curiously, I seem to embrace the world with open arms which begs the question, why?
Why would I be this way given all things?
I have my theories on that which I will interweave in my writings, for the caring and interested listeners…
So as I prepare for my day, why should I stop here in transparency or saying controversial things?
Before bed last night I saw a news report where a candidate for our Supreme Court was asked her definition of a woman, and at least according to that particular slanted news clip, could not or would not answer.
If we lay aside a number of our biases and lenses, I do think it’s a fair question.
Being a woman who has now given birth twice, I think earns me and every other woman on the planet to ask the answer to this?
A woman I have come to know in an unlikely scenario sent me a Christmas gift of a prayer bowl with little cards.
It was very sweet, and a couple days ago while straightening my office desk I moved it to my bathroom sink. I added in the following prayer card:
Thank You For Reading
Please Feel Free To Express Your Thoughts Below
