Lately I have found that even when I can squeeze time to post, I don't want to sit down and begin. As board president, I must write many e-mails to our CASA agency board and staff. After that I want to stop.
I continue to have deep old hurts thrusting upward to receive my attention for healing--particularly those from my adolescence. I'm using Anne Lamott's prayer "Help!" a lot these days, realizing more and more each moment that I can't heal without the help of the Holy Spirit in ways of which I am not aware.
A friend is leading a series on forgiveness in Denver during Lent. I responded to her invitation to join the class with "once again, I'm learning more about how particular events have colored my life in so many ways--how the decisions I made as a young adolescent have been buried in my unconscious and sprung a wide and deep root system." I told her that I can't do the next level of forgiveness without more understanding of how those events and my decisions have stunted my accomplishments, my relationships, especially with men, and my desire to protect myself by being stronger, more determined, more sure--and on and on.
I have known about that adolescent anger and rage for years. I have touched it, hung with it, and acknowledged her for her fury and determination to keep going. As a woman said to me last fall, I thank her, for without that stubborn girl's determination to find a way to beat those men I might well have succumbed to the fear and pain that was being inflicted. I have also known that under that anger and rage would be grief and sorrow. I now find there is a sense of "no matter how hard I try, I won't win--I won't figure out what he (Dad) wants, there is no way out so I must adjust, manage, handle it."
It's that sense that is so present that I have difficulty looking at the many positives with all the things we need to create at VFC CASA. That same sense gives me a lens that notices the road blocks in that and other groups in which I am involved--WITHOUT giving me the path through, as I'm accustomed to seeing. That old "I've worked so hard, why aren't things working out the way I'd hoped" voice is too loud.
On the farm I loved the sunsets, especially the ones that seemed to turn the gray farm buildings pink. Now I realize that the strong rolling colors could express emotions other than joy, though for me joy co-exists with the anger and rage that I can imagine reflected in the bright boiling clouds.
Last Friday's snowshoe, brief though it was, allowed the joyful girl to come out and play. My friend said my joy was part of what allowed her to keep going, that it inspired her. I need that joy for this noon's meeting with the fledgling healing ministry team at church. I need it even more for Monday's VFC CASA Board meeting. I'm praying for the joy--not for it to obscure the challenges, but for it to be present with the challenges.
May you all find peace and joy.
