Everlasting

It's not as if I did anything terribly strenuous.  In fact, this time I think I was just sitting there minding my own business when, suddenly, I felt it: that old familiar stabbing pain.  And just as suddenly I knew I was in for a long and painful two weeks.  That's just the way it goes--when it goes.

It's the little things.  Pick up that pencil?  Reach for the faucet?  Put on my socks?  Not without bracing myself for another spasm and that excruciating pain.

It's OK, though.  It gets better.  The Advil helps--and rest (easier said than done!). After a while, most folks get used to the wincing, the cloud of wintergreen, the constant excuses.  "Wish I could."  And usually, after a while, the muscles relax again, and eventually things go back to normal...at least they always have before. 

I wondered, though, this time.  What if they don't?  What if things don't go back to normal?  What if "normal" now means "in constant pain?"  It was almost a panic that washed over me--and then I was filled with sadness.  What kind of a life would that be?  Would I want to live it?

Chronic.  It means "lasting for a long period of time."  How many people live with things we call "chronic"?  How many live with constant invisible pain?  Emotional stress?  Mental illness?  How many live with a "normal" that is chronic and unbearable?

These days I find myself so grateful.  Not because "there but for the grace of God go I."  But because I've been given a new gift: to see that I don't always see--that I can't possibly know what burdens others may be bearing.  And all I can do is live out the call to see beyond my assumptions about them, to be a little less judgmental and a lot more helpful.

I hope it lasts...

"Bear one another's burdens."

  

Perfect Together!

That's what the ad in my in-box said: "Perfect Together."

It had little hearts all over it and was clearly geared toward the discerning Valentine's Day shopper.

But it stopped me dead in my tracks...because I suddenly realized that they were dead serious.  They really meant it: perfect together.

Thing is, it can't be true--can it?  Human relationships are never "perfect," at least not in the sense that everything is always wonderful and people never stop swooning and the floor never stops spinning and the stars never stop twinkling and our hearts never stop racing.  The reality of human relationships, as you well-know, is something else entirely.

What is true is that people are wonderful, and people are horrible--sometimes people smell like a bouquet of Valentine's Day roses, and sometimes they just stink.  And a "perfect" relationship isn't one that denies this reality, but embraces it...and keeps loving anyway.  You remember: "What credit is it to you if you love those who love you?"  Real love embraces the UNlovable...which is ALL of us--at least at one time or another.

Come to think of it, the ad may not have been that far off--because as long as the batteries are charged and my internet connection is in tact, my iPad and I really are "Perfect Together."  

It's just not much of a relationship, that's all.

With love to all for a Happy Valentine's Day!

Birthing Room

Strange things happen under the couch in our living room.  I really can't explain it, but it's like another world under there: a world I know little about...

Oh sure, every once in a blue moon some light is shed on that mysterious land.  Things get moved around for a little cleaning, maybe, or the beam of a flashlight sweeps across that barren, dusty plain as it searches for something dropped or misplaced.  But something tells me that when the light hits it the magic pauses...until my eyes turn away...and then it all begins again.

I have no proof, of course, only evidence: a beauty of a tabby, once a tiny orange kitten whose announcement--just a faint cry in the hustle and bustle--rose from that underworld to let us know he'd arrived.

And while I may never fully know what's going on in that land of mystery, as I go on fooling myself into believing only in that which I can see for myself, I sometimes wonder.  

Maybe there's more.  Maybe there's more.

"Now I see through a glass, darkly."

Here's an invitation--if you enjoy reading, share the good news.  Feel free to steer your family and friends here: help spread the word!

Bless You!

With cold and flu season upon us, chances are you're hearing the words with some frequency:

"Bless you!"

Some say that the practice of offering a blessing when someone sneezes is rooted in an ancient belief that a sneeze was the body's way of expelling evil spirits that were trying to work their way inside.  The blessing was offered as a prayer that those demons would be gone for good.  In a way they had it right, though these days we're more likely to call them "germs" rather than "demons."

Same difference.

It's all said rather casually, though, and that's what gets me wondering.  If we were to stop and think about what we were saying--if we were a bit more deliberate in not just spouting off but actually delivering on our hope and promise--the world might a better place.

So the next time I find myself saying it, I'm going to stop and think about it too.  How can I put my own words into action, and be a source of healing?  I've a hunch, in doing so, some of my own demons might just be gone too.

"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth."