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Thursday, December 6, 2018

The Funeral

Watching the funeral of President Bush, I am struck  by the uniqueness of this family. Their lives seem to be diametrically opposite of the life I've led.

Moments brought tears of grief from the contrast. I didn't get to cuddle with my grandmother. She told me horrendous stories that showed how I should be torn to pieces, how I was killing her, condemning me to hell. My mother slapped,  beat, and told me how she almost died when she had me and how daddy was sorry he made her pregnant.

It went on an on like that. Only my relationship with God kept me together. Year after year slings and arrows of attack stalked me. New people joined the chorus of proving to me how flawed and undeserving I was. Sometimes I was my own worst enemy as I tried to get a grip on this life.

Yet, here I am. Survivor. God walked this tumultuous journey with me.

I now see that this life has been tailored to crack the shell so that I could be more useful to spiritual seekers, for I speak from a deep knowing. God seeks us, is with us, and, if we listen, guides us through whatever life experiences come our way.

I see with Vikor Frankl  that there is meaning strewn everywhere. Our suffering can make us stronger, in closer relationship with God, cracking  away ego, setting us free.

Everyone is my teacher. Every moment, every stone and every embrace have molded me. This life began without a golden spoon and has unfolded over 78 years with  countless ups and downs, twists and turns. It has made me courageous and yet tender and soft skinned, confident and yet reticent,  but most of all certain of God.

Lord, my Companion, my Guide, my Savoir, I give thanks for this messy life and most of all for Your constant Presence. Lead me to lead the rest of this life to Your Glory.

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