Treasure Chest....

 As polyradiculitis has stolen so much from my life, I continue to mourn...

Too often, I then judge myself...

The judgement is disguised as, "But think of all the good in your life, Carol..." 

I think of the Homeless, the Bereaved, the Poor, the Orphan, the War-torn...

And I often think of Dad, who lived over 12 years as a quadriplegic. 

If he could appear in bodily form, I think he would agree that even though he couldn't move his body, he found ways to thrive through those years. 

And he couldn't have done it without Mom. 

Recently as I've thought about my current crippled-in-body-and-brain condition, I've thought-felt that I have not allowed sufficient grieving of the piled-up losses. 

And it's not just the losses from Poly Rad, but other losses, some decades old.

Instead of allowing myself to feel into the caverns left by the losses, I try to fill up those caverns with the next thing. 

Can I allow those losses a voice, to speak from the deepest caverns in my soul?

To sit with the losses...

Allow any images to arise...

Ask what is it I am grieving? 

What color is it? 

Where do I feel it in my body?

~*~

When Granddaughter came into the world this past May, I felt joy and some trepidation. Joy in that she is healthy and that her parents love her dearly. Trepidation in that, "What will the world be like as she grows up?" I imagine every grandparent thinks something along those lines. I counter this with the reminder that all known living beings have endured through incredible tragedies and sometimes horrendous atrocities; it's part of being alive on this planet. 

I thought I had prepared myself for her arrival - prepared myself emotionally for the fact that I am unable to help with her infant and baby care. Due to polyradiculitis, I am unable to pick her up or carry her or change a diaper. My arms and hands are too weak. The reality of that fact was one more item on my growing can't-do list. 

Some might say, "Don't confess that, that you can't do!" 

The advice is noted, but would they say to the blind, "Don't confess that you can't see!"? 

I guess there's no real way to prepare for many losses, until they arrive. 

And I grieved, for months after her birth, that I was unable to care for my granddaughter, to help out. 

As a response I would continually remind myself of the silver linings...

And then I'd grieve again...

A couple weeks ago, I took a trip to see Granddaughter. It's not an easy drive. I take the interstate and have to drive through Charlotte. Lord, I don't like that close traffic at the speeds one has to drive to keep from being run over. I most always drive the back roads home which takes over three hours, but at least I'm not wracked by the constant vigilance of zooming among giant tin cans on wheels. 

This last visit with Granddaughter was the most joyful I'd experienced. She can now sit up and crawl. And she loves music!!! I used to "teach" preschool music, singing and dancing with little people. So, this last visit, as she sat in front of me and me in front of her, our eyes and energies connected, as we bopped and clapped our thighs and laughed. 

Son said to me, "Mom, that was a real help. I was able to get some uninterrupted clean-up done in the kitchen. Thanks!" 

My heart sang...

I found my niche...

As Granddaughter gets older, I'll take my big bag of musical instruments...

It can be Memaw's Music Bag...

That is a rich life Carol...

Despite the losses, and maybe in part because of them, you have a huge treasure chest...

And there's still room in it for more...

~*~

One of the songs we shared...

Cypress Choral Music with All God's Critters...

Dampening....

I think I want to finish writing the story about Hiram -- our beautiful, wondrous, huge scarlet oak. 

As I think of all the details of the story, which is still ongoing, I think, Do I really feel like writing all that out? 

Of course I wouldn't write all the details; just what I feel like sharing or what beckons to be written.

I recently orally shared the story with someone who responded something like, "Wow. That's a God thing." 

I can't recall my response - if I pretended to agree or not. 

But it was after that that my enthusiasm for writing the story was dampened. 

Why did I feel that way so suddenly?

I pondered, awaiting an answer... 

Within a day or so I had an answer...

It bothers me because it implies that God plays favorites. 

Depending on a person's beliefs, that could be a true statement. 

But I'm not one who believes that, anymore.  

What if, during a storm, my house is spared, but not my neighbor's. 

How very arrogant it would be to think, say, believe that God was watching out for me. 

So, by logic, wouldn't that mean that God wasn't watching out for my neighbor?

Such kind of doctrine causes my blood to feel staticky, prickly. 

Hm, is that how arrogance feels to me?  

If I finish the story about Hiram, am I bragging about a blessing from God? 

If so, I will not write that story. 

 

So, if I don't believe in God-things for certain people and not for others, what do I believe?

The Way taught that God is no respecter of persons, but that He is a respecter of a person's believing regardless of that person's belief or not in Jesus...

In other words, the "law of attraction"....

Can I actually attract to me, by my believing, that which is beneficial for me?

Maybe so...

Quotes from a couple different blog posts regarding the "law of believing":

2/03/2012: Expectations: The law of believing...

 

"...I was not going to be ashamed; that is, I was believing and thereby would not be disappointed in my expectation. My partner and I would make it to Tinnie on time, even if I did have asthma symptoms in the frigid cold. By acting on the Word and going to LEAD in spite of my asthma, I was believing. My body would be healed. 'Confession of receipt yields receipt of confession.'

My partner and I missed the allotted time frame by a few minutes; we failed. We had to turn around and hitchhike back to Kansas. We weren't able to attend the LEAD outdoor rock-climbing session.

I was disappointed in my expectation, so I must not have been believing. But by missing the time frame, I missed the seven days and nights in the frigid cold in the wilderness mountains of New Mexico. Frigid cold plus asthma plus wilderness could equal death or at the least, trauma.

I continued to suffer with asthma for the next fifteen plus years. But I still claimed God's healing."

I didn't want to be ashamed."

2/02/2014: The Next Book...

"...The electro-magnetic field radiating from the heart is about 5000 times greater than that of the brain. Magnetism attracts and repels. Maybe that's the key to receiving, maybe there is a physiological side to this 'law of believing.'..."

~*~

 "Bad shit happens, and good shit happens too." ~ M. Franti...

~*~

"What is Truth?" (a repost)

Originally posted on July 4, 2016, here: "What is Truth?".

~*~*~*~

This morning, I read the question, "What is Truth?" The author posing the question then answers the question by quoting something that Jesus allegedly said that God's Word is truth.

I thought about the question, leaving Jesus aside.

Carol, what is Truth?
Truth is the opposite of a lie. Lies are fables. 
Truth then must be reality, life as it is including events that really happen(ed), and not fables. 

Both fables and reality claim facts and circumstances and motives. The difference is that one story really happened or happens; the other didn't or doesn't. One is true; the other, false.

So, I was left pondering reality as truth.

~*~

The author continues, "Truth is not relative."

I agree. Truth [reality] is not relative. Nothing trumps reality. Reality is. In a sense, it is the ultimate power and judge.

I believe that nature must be the closest example we have of reality [truth]. She plays no favorites. Nature is. We see her raw power on display, though the forces themselves may be invisible to the naked eye.

Human actions do have an effect on nature and her forces, and thus on reality. But ultimately, we have to surrender to reality, facing consequences or blessings.

~*~

The author continues, "God expresses His will to us with words so that we can understand Him."

That sentence stopped me in my reading tracks.

Really?! God relegates the vastness and multi-layered aspects of truth [reality] to mere words on a page? That is how I can understand a universal creator? By reading words on a page?

My past Way-brain instantaneously reminded me that's really not what I learned or believed as a Way believer.

God's Word involves more than words on a page; it includes oral words and the Word in the flesh, Jesus. And God first wrote His Word not on a page, but rather in the stars, telling the story of redemption in the zodiac and beyond. Much of the meaning though is contained within the names of those stars which were all passed along orally until God later had to have his certain chosen prophets pen that revelation to have a document, a standard, because as the earth became/becomes more and more filled with people and as the adversary (the devil) worked/works more and more to deceive, humans need a written standard that they can always go back to as a touchstone. 

To make things even more constraining and complicated, the author then states, "It [the Word] can be rightly-divided by studying to show ourselves approved unto God or used to purport the adversary's ideas. It can be understood and believed because it interprets itself in the verse, its context, or how it has been spoken of previously! Truth does not contradict itself from Genesis 1:1 to Revelation 22:21."

So now in order to understand a universal creator, who is God my Father, I have this written standard that I have to figure out? But I have to be diligent because it can be distorted into whatever way the devil wants in order to purport his lies?

And the whole spiel about the Word interpreting itself in the verse, in the context, and used before sounds like gobbly-gook. On the other hand, if one thinks about it, that is how written language works, along with definitions and multiple aspects that grammarians and linguists and sociologists and other "ists" have studied.

Should I do the same with my kids? Give them my written standard and tell them to read it in order to know me and understand me, but be sure to interpret it properly because there's a devil who'll twist it? So my kids ask, "How do we know when he's twisting it?" I answer, "My motive is always love. So if it contradicts love, it's wrong. Just keep reading. And remember, it all has to fit with no contradictions."

All this feels like a straitjacket trying to squeeze the life right out of life.

~*~

As I continued to read the rest of the author's epistle on "What is Truth," I got to thinking (yet again) about myth and belief.

I guess from the time humans tried to start answering the question "Why?" they have surmised and calculated and invented "answers" to help cope through the hardships and turmoil and heartbreak and evil that life can pound. These answers form beliefs that, in addition to explaining the evil, give more meaning to the magic of life, the inexplicable happenstances, the beauty, the power of nature and the cosmos.

So, it's about survival. Trying to cope with and explain life.
And we cling to that which resonates for us -- our beliefs.
That resonance is different for different people.
Beliefs can be good, as long as those beliefs aren't used to manipulate and harm, which is sadly too often the case.

~*~

I often wonder, What do I really believe?

I believe there are forces, unseen and still undiscovered, that can cause circumstances to appear as if they are supernatural. I do not believe these yet undiscovered forces or their resulting impacts are any more supernatural than the current discoverable forces of nature, which are beyond incredible. Humans have not yet even conceived of measuring tools to illuminate these yet undiscovered currents or forces. And once we invent those tools, there'll probably still be a multitude of yet undiscovered layers.

I wonder if we'll ever stop trying to peer beyond.
I wonder if we'll come up with a belief measuring tool.
That's kind of a scary thought.

Do I believe there is a benevolent creator behind those discovered-and-undiscovered forces?
I want to, but I still can't say for sure.
But I want to believe there is "something" and that I'll be delightfully surprised in the hereafter. 

Perhaps, nature is my "god" now.
I certainly hold her in great awe.
And I've taken up praying to trees.
I swear they hear me.

God's Acre, Bethabara