love – Page 8

August 7, 2017 By HallieZ Leave a Comment

Love Always Everywhere

The library and I have a complicated relationship. As much as I love it… there is a LOT of pressure there, you know, to get the books back?

I feel like my life already has SO much pressure in it, I avoid voluntarily to ADDING pressure to my life!

I finaly started taking my kids to the library a few months ago. So far, I have a few fines, but with the help of Auntie H, I am learning a few tips and tricks that lower the pressure levels for me.

So, last week, I told the 2 littles to each pick two books. Of course they came back with 5, and I picked the 2 that looked the least annoying to bring home.

The transition into my parenting time is often a bit rough, last night, there were multiple layers of grief that needed to be sorted through.

One child in particular was experiencing a loss and grief that I felt terrible about. I wanted so much to be able to comfort her, and was really struggling with the scope of her grief.

A great strength my parents had in parenting me, was the ability to look for a the larger picture, to look toward a principle, and parent toward that principle.

That’s something I really try to carry into my own parenting… and last night, I felt lost, and frustrated as I cried out my favorite prayer, “HELP!!!!”

As I held the affected children, it came to me.

“LOVE, I said, comes in lots of different colors. What are some ways we show love?”

sob. Hick up. I don’t know

“well, think about it, what I am I doing right now?”

you’re cuddling us

“ok, there’s one. What else?”

we hug. We play games.

“yes, good. What else?”

Cook food. Wash laundry. Play on the swing. Read a book. Laugh. Tell a joke. Fight. Make up. Listen. Talk…

We added and added to the list.

“what if someone couldn’t use their legs, so they couldn’t play on the swing with you? And they couldn’t speak, so they couldn’t talk with you?”

well, they could still do lots of other things that would show love!

“exactly”

(freaking BRILLIANT KIDS. I pat myself on the back. They should be giving TED talks)

At this point, I went off to do some other tidying up, thinking lights were out and everyone was falling asleep.

When I went back to check in, I found the two of them, lights on, giggling and laughing over some library books I had left in there from reading to the littles before bed.

“LIGHTS OUT!”

“lay DOWN!”

“I TOLD you, you couldn’t sleep in my bed if you were going to be all cray!”

10 minutes later, all the secondary issues have been settled and we are cuddling AGAIN, and I’m thinking, “they are TOO old for this nonsense” and one of them gets all soft, and warm, and gooey, and says,

love is just like that book

“what?”

you know, that library book!

“I don’t think I read that one yet”

she bring it back to bed

(I had just picked this book for the illustrations)

love one

love two

love quiet

love loud

love shy

love proud

love lose

love miss

love smile

love kiss

love tickle

love snug

love care

love share

love always, everywhere

They are GETTING IT.

Like I said, freaking brilliant kids.

(disclaimer, remember, this was ONE layer of the many layers we were dealing with last night, and will continue to unravel as the days come. This was ONE win in a sea of losses as a parent, and I share it with you to give you HOPE. Parenting is like that, huh? So many things at once?)

Love Always Everywhere by Sarah Massini

August 5, 2017 By HallieZ 2 Comments

I wouldn’t start from there

There is this story, about an American in Ireland.

She’s trying to get to Dublin, and is hopelessly lost.

She pulls off the road and asks a farmer how to get to Dublin.

The farmer deliberates a bit, then says

“well, lass, truth be told, I wouldna start from here”.

I kind of feel this way when I’m scrolling through Facebook, and I see some debate go totally off subject, and veer into insanity. “woah, dude, I wouldn’t start from THERE!!”

I feel this way when I watch the average Joe-Christian evangelize some poor, lost soul. “please” I want to explain, ” I am so sorry, Joe didn’t need to start from there”.

I super feel this way when my theology is challenged by someone who never stopped to find out from where I had started.

I MEGA feel this way, when, having never understood my journey, people try to explain my “failed” marriage and my soul’s condition to me.

When I think about my hoped for destinations,

(yeah, not Dublin, in case you forget that was a story) a few come to mind.

Destination Wholehearted living.

Destination Shining light in the world.

Destination Be true to the teaching of Jesus.

Destination Live LOVE.

Destination Reflecting a Creator who calls forth LOVE.

From where should I start then, I ask, if that is where I want to find myself, in the end?

Shall I start with a scripture reference?

Or, perhaps, some scientific evidence?

Should I start with declarations, and statements?

Or maybe my opinion of all the other people?

“No” I hear in my heart. “I wouldn’t start from there”.

I’d start at the well, in the heat of the day.

I’d ask you for a drink, then I would speak to you in stories.

I’d start in a room full of men who mocked and criticized you, I’d speak your name, and the truth of who you were.

I would start in the dark, because you were too afraid to find me in the light, and I’d listen, and I would tell you stories.

I’d start with some questions, and some listening.

I would start with tears and speaking to my Father.

I would tell him all of it.

I’d start in a town, dry and unimportant.

I’d shine a star on a single mama, outcast and scored, on the night her child was born.

I would start with healing.

Yes. I would start from there.

stuff that helped:

Liturgist Podcast

July 28, 2017 By HallieZ 1 Comment

GRIEVING ALONE/NOT ALONE

I can feel the pain surging through my body.

Sometimes it feels like a caving in, an emptying.

Sometimes if feels like my brain has been put on ice.

Tonight, it feels like a restless tension.

It compels me to check Facebook again. Watch another 5 minutes of a Netflix show I can’t even remember when I hit pause.

It feels like, if I imagine what they are feeling tonight, I will be ripped apart forever, and so, I can’t imagine. I can’t feel.

But my heart screams at me, you must feel.

I got news of a tragedy in my family of origin this morning. I want to run to the pain, I want to run to the hurt and the arms of family. But I know I would only bring more pain, only bring more sorrow. I am not wanted. I know that. I don’t know what to do. It is one of my worst fears come true, since the shunning began. Every day, I fight off the fear that someone will die, someone will get a diagnosis, and I won’t be told. I won’t be there.

I won’t get to comfort and grieve with the ones I have loved for my entire existence.

My own pain is brought into sharp focus by the pain I know my loved ones are experiencing today.

“this is a living hell”, I texted to a friend this morning. As I hit send, I heard the voice of David…

“If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” *

I watched the Osprey fly over my head, carrying a snake back to her young, her wings a silhouette against the early morning sun.

Again, I heard David

“If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea” *

Later in the afternoon, I answer the half-panicked shouts of my oldest child. I run outside to see that my preschooler has solo-scaled a tree in our back yard. I bid my heart stop racing, and calmly ask “can you get down by yourself?”

With utter confidence, she cheerfully declared

“YES!!! And if I get STUCK, YOU can come up here!!!”

That’s it, isn’t it?

Love beckons and reaches.

Love moves in and says I AM HERE.

Love shows up in the grit and the grime of the bloody trenches of life.

It stretches out its arms, and says

“lo, I am with you always, even to the ends of the earth”.

One lesson of MASSIVE importance for this year is that I will survive the feelings. I used to be afraid that if I felt it, if I let it come into my body, I would die.

I used to think that grief would fling my body into outer space and I would never be able to come back to earth.

Tonight, I power off the devices.

I lay still and close my eyes.

I let it wash over me. I surrender.

I tell myself, “YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BE SAD”.

I let the sadness move through me, and the tears seep through my eyelids.

My phone rings, and it is a person I had despaired of hearing from. Her voice calls out the deeper grief, and I sob into her ear, and she doesn’t seem to mind. Her call is so much more than a call. It is an invitation and a movement of healing. It is the image of the Divine, one we only see clearly in sorrow.

I remember this video, illustrating some research on empathy, and the impact this concept had on me.

This afternoon, I was almost yelling at my kids, in the car. They looked at my like I’m deranged.

“in our family we ALWAYS LOVE FIRST. That’s one of our core values. We LOVE, and we show up, and we don’t mess with each other and we don’t let other people mess with our family. We always, ALWAYS show up for each other, even if we don’t agree or understand”.

Miss Smarty pants comes back at me with “how many family values do we have, you’ve been talking about this a lot” but she has a bit of a glint in her eye, because her heart is hearing what my heart is saying to her. She’s hearing it loud and clear.

“I am your mom and I will TAKE DOWN ANYONE who messes with you and you are NEVER put out of my presence.”

That is who MY GOD IS, my God is the one who calls forth love. My God is the one who comes into the pain, into the darkness. I AM IN THE PRESENCE OF THIS LOVE to the highs and the lows and the in-betweens. The darkest depths of the earth, the highest arch of the skies.

No where will I be separated from this LOVE.

*PS 139:8 & 9

July 24, 2017 By HallieZ 2 Comments

HE’S NAKED!

The most meaningful fairy tale of all time?

The Emperor’s New Clothes

Oh yes.

When the truth is spilling over and running out of me, and the truth can’t be shut up…

and I am the only one in the crowd at the parade yelling

“the emperor is naked…”

I, am not, of course, the only one. Dozens of other people in the crowd see the truth. They see all his zits and warts on display.

They see the quiver of the buttocks and the shine of the sweat and they are scared, for some reason, to acknowledge the truth.

I am MAD at them. “*&%# YOU!” I want to scream. I want to stomp on toes and I rip the truth out of their throats. I want them to look me in the eyes and tell me why they are standing by, silent, and I want them to cut the bull *@#**. I want them to OWN the reality. I want them the face it and if they don’t want to call that emperor out, I want them to at least

OWN THAT THEY DON’T WANT TO CALL HIM OUT.

Instead. I sit down on the curb. The parade is going by. The emperor didn’t hear me shout, or if he did, he didn’t care. The people nearest me told me to shut up and made a human wall that shoved me back, away from the edge, where I could see the parade.

I sit on the curb, and lower my head into my hands, and I sob.

July 23, 2017 By HallieZ 5 Comments

ANGER

(in which I begin to try to tie up some things I am learning)

Anger. A creature of many tentacles with whom I am not yet entirely comfortable.

(FYI I know my creature is very friendly looking. The thing is, she is MY anger, and that’s how she looks to me right now. When she’s a monster, not so friendly. But we are keeping it sweet here, today, in this post)

A number of years ago, when my rose colored glasses were shattered, I experienced an anger I had never felt before. I was pretty lucky to have my therapist there, to walk me through meeting this creature, and befriending her.

I learned that anger was a natural emotional response to many different kinds of things. It is a biological response of our brain to things around us and anger is important to our survival as human beings.

I learned anger is a part of a healthy grieving process. I began practicing healthy ways of expressing anger. I began naming anger. “Oh!” I would say to myself “ I am ANGRY!!!” “this is ANGER I feel”. It was wild. I thought I should feel guilty, but I didn’t.

I was introduced to the idea that anger is a gift. When Dr D came into our life, as our marriage therapist, his theology background was invaluable to the lessons I was learning, because we were able to explore the gift God had given me in my emotions, that all my emotions are ok, all of them are gifts.

Anger slowly became my friend. I began looking at this creature, and asking her “what are you trying to tell me?” I have written a bit about starting to listen to my instinct, and paying attention to anger has been a very similar.

Anger can tell me something is wrong inside me. It can alert me to a problem in a relationship, or something in the world outside me. Anger shows me dangerous people, and cries out from my deepest soul to defy injustice.

Anger can also be a cruel, cruel master. Anger can drive me to speak words I don’t want to speak. Anger can take over my body, and break a heart with a scream. Anger can rip apart my face and scare the people I love most. And that, my friends, is a terrible thing.

So, for me, getting to know this creature, this anger, has been both terrifying, and liberating.

Until about 2 weeks ago.

The pressure in my life, accompanying my pending divorce, was reaching a boiling point. (is there a point beyond boiling? If there is, I think I was actually at THAT point)

Reality was hitting me EXTRA hard all of a sudden. I was preparing to SELL MY HOME, FINALIZE MY DIVORCE, MOVE somewhere (but I didn’t know where) CLOSE MY BUSINESS, FIND A WAY TO SUPPORT MY CHILDREN ALL BY MYSELF… There was so much more, but you get the point. I know we all have our lists like this.

Basically, I am going through one of the biggest transitions of my life… and the people, the humans, I had always relied on to get through hard times WERE NO WHERE TO BE FOUND. My anger at my ex, and at my family of origin wasn’t just a creature, it was a MOTHER*&$King sea monster, and she was trying to take me down with her.

The rage I felt was so powerful, it was ALL I HAD. I could feel it in every minute of every day, and I quickly realized I couldn’t, and DID NOT WANT TO live this way.

There was a talk with my therapist, a few talks with friends. There was venting on the phone and there was crying over my dishes. There was raging in the garage, as I sorted stuff into boxes, and there was most certainly some cussing.

And then… as it always does… the opening and the shining and the breakthrough-ing began.

I named the anger. I said I am ANGRY I haven’t gotten child support in months. I am ANGRY my sisters aren’t here. I am ANGRY my mom won’t speak up for me. I am ANGRY I have to sell my house… and on and on and on.

The stuff I am angry about? Totally legitimate.

The way I feel? Natural

The things I want to do to the people that hurt me? Understandable

Being stuck here? Not cool

Being anger’s bitch? WAY not cool

I am washing dishes while having this conversation in my head,

“Hallie, give thanks”

for the anger? Give thanks for the anger?

“yes, give thanks for the anger”

I think that’s ungodly

“are YOU the one who decides what is ungodly?”

uh, not really

“so…”

and then I break wide open

“thank you for this anger. Thank you for my heart that sees. Thank you that I am sensitive to the spirit. Thank you that my brain and my body work so well. Thank you that I love justice. Thank you that I am healthy enough to recognize and name my emotions”

then, I ask myself a question

“is this what YOU WANT IN YOUR BRAIN?”

I think its ungodly for me to want or not want anything in my brain

“seriously? We are doing this? WHAT DO YOU WANT, HALLIE?”

I want LOVE in my brain, I sob.

I want kindness, I want compassion. I want goodness and freedom and life and light and joy and everything I could possibly ever ever EVER have from you! THAT’S WHAT I WANT, ok?!!!

“this is who your truly are. Lets release the anger so that you have room inside you for ALL THAT IS GOOD”

And now… I am doing this every time. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

I name it. I give thanks for it. I release anger. Then I welcome joy, I welcome love. And I am free. And then I start laughing.

I don’t know how long this will be my thing. But if grief and healing is like an onion, this is the layer that is being peeled back right now. And for that, I am GLAD.

What I’m Writing