Sunday, September 11, 2011

Memory & Therapy

In the ebb and flow of ministry, 
 and preschoolers

 the mind wanders

The heart ascends and descends in the constant flux of words. 
Words that bring worry, 
                               words that bring peace, 
words that bring poison, 
                                                                words that build courage. 

Strange that I find therapy in moving many of the same words around on a page. 


noun, plural -pies.
the treatment of disease or disorders, as by some remedial,rehabilitating, or curative process: speech therapy.
a curative power or quality.
3. any act, hobby, task, program, etc., that relieves tension.

I am going with #3

therapeutic  (ˌθɛrəˈpjuːtɪk) [Click for IPA pronunciation guide]
— adj
1.of or relating to the treatment of disease; curative
2.serving or performed to maintain health:

and #2 here

so I write...and soon ideas come and perspectives change and I cope....

10 years ago today, I was beginning the day as most days the same way- cleaning up after my 15 mo. old son. He'd had a "blow out" all over the crib. It required a complete overhaul. It took time.

We were living in Alex, Ok in a parsonage. Cody was still at home that morning when the phone rang. It was Trevor, our resident conspiracy theorist and youth pastor and more importantly, friend.

"Have you seen the news? Turn on the TV man, a plane just flew into the twin towers in NYC, they are thinking it's a terrorist attack. "

And with a single phone call our day changed. Our lives changed.  We simply sat in front of the TV for hours and watched it all unfold. We didn't know fear of this scale in our country until that day. Everything shut down. Every eye watched. Everyone had a story.

2 weeks later we took the picture above. We had planned a fall trip to New England and couldn't change it. We enjoyed the time with dear friends, Becky and Brad Graves and their boys. The picture was taken in Kennebunkport, Maine.

Today my neighbor came in to church and said he had Alzheimer's. In his 80's he still can take me to Alaska or Seattle or Colorado in a story.  He wife walked on past, this wasn't what she wanted to talk about in the hallway. The weather, or a ballgame, or a child's new shoes....anything but loss.

Words came and my heart sank. I hurt for him. He knows now but he won't for long. He hates to be a burden. He's a walking history book full of stories of his travels and his community, his work and his pain. Losing a child, robed of possessions 2 years prior in a house fire. With ailing health there is not much left but the stories....

4 weeks ago he told me of getting off of a medication and how much better he felt. 10 years on the same medication and it's drained the vigor from him. But the celebration is short lived with so many years behind him.

And why?
            When did life get so hard?
                                                     Was I napping?
                                                                              I'd rather go back to sleep.

As I understand HIS beautiful grace more and more and his very presence in my every moment I delight in my creator, our relationship & his word. The dance has gotten sweeter yet each moment harder, as I feel the weight of the curse in my own bones. Death visits us all, it started in the garden. A man, a woman, Satan and disobedience gave way to death.

Terror will come, fears abound, phone calls and words said will change lives forever.

Memory is a curious thing. We try and forget, we try to recall. A gift and a curse, intertwined with tears and joy, pain and delight.

I am a story teller at best a rambler at worst. Witness to what I see, hear and feel. A Physical and Spiritual being. A whiner & thief saved by a single act of sacrifice. Being made new in spirit while my body is fading.

I am walking by faith in a dimly lit room, the hour is late but there is still time. There is a story to be told, I've eluded before....Two women's lives intersecting....words spoken...the Sovereignty and Goodness of, death, pleadings....pain, hope, promise.... be continued

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