Oh Tilly
How did I know you but – Not?
How did I look in your smiling eyes
And not see the pain behind?
How did we talk so long and so deep
But still not deep enough?
Tilly
The difference a day makes
On this night ten years ago we waited with anxious hearts for this one more night which was to make the difference between teams of doctors and nurses working to save – or not – the life of our first little (tiny) grandbaby. 22 weeks and 6 days gestation – certain death… 23 weeks gestation – full support and a chance at life.
Continue reading “The difference a day makes”Broken boys
Oh Lord – he’s 10.
He’s 10 with a broken brain.
Can you mend a 10 year old broken brain?
Of course you can. I know that. But will you?
Would you?
Oh Lord he’s 10.
Or 11.
Maybe he was 10 when he did it and 11 now.
But his brain got broken a long time ago.
This doesn’t just ‘happen’
Are you in the business of mending broken brains?
Sometimes I don’t think so.
But what if that’s because we only see the ones that didn’t get mended.
– or haven’t yet.
What if you’ve mended more brains that we could ever know
Because we haven’t seen the effects of the brokenness?
Oh Lord, he’s 10. Or 11.
Does it even matter?
You Who dwells outside of our now – do you see the man he ‘is’ in a simple pivot of the line of time? Is he a monster? Is he fixable?
Oh Lord – a broken boy.
Please God might you mend him?
Might you put your people around him to help him heal?
Would you protect others in the now, and in the future, from the spread of this specific sadness?
Would you?
Oh Lord he’s 10.
So many fearful others, so sure of the ‘should haves’.
And would I be too in their position?
Oh Lord – the other broken boy.
Heal, protect, love, tear down, build up, surround and restore.
How long oh Lord.
How long.
He’s 8.
Oh Lord.
Written after one boy abused another at a local school.
Remembrance
I almost never open this box, though I keep it close, as I know the contents and all they summarize will reduce me to a puddle. And every year before his birthday I wonder about posting – and mostly I do – but mostly not much – as his story is not fully my own, yet his story so completely a part of me.
Continue reading “Remembrance”Unpacking forgiveness
Forgiveness – The ideas attributed to forgiveness are often pre-packaged with a whole host of assumptions, a tonne of pain, a few shovelfuls of offence, confusion about moving forward etc etc etc and when you’re in the middle of a knot it can be pretty tricky to figure out which is what. It’s also pretty often that the knot itself is what gets in the way of being able to forgive when we assume more is meant by it than is so.
Continue reading “Unpacking forgiveness”Soul cleanse
I would never begin a project if I knew it was going to take me five years to complete. For goodness sake, I’ve never even finished knitting a scarf!
Most would be familiar with what the words ‘colon cleanse’ represent, right? Well, something similar in a non-physical manner of speaking, is a ‘soul cleanse’, which happened to me when our teeny grandson came and went within the space of 22 days.
Continue reading “Soul cleanse”Firsts and lasts
Firsts and lasts sometimes come or go with great notice. Like a birth – the last day of pregnancy becomes the first day of raising a child – and it is usually celebrated. Or a death – the last day of life becomes the first day of living without – and the life that has passed is celebrated, recalled and grieved for.
Continue reading “Firsts and lasts”Intangible grief
When we first moved into our current house twenty-something years ago, we had these lovely neighbours to our right that became like an extra set of grandparents. Bob-Bob would walk their lovely lumbering dog Rufus past our house each afternoon…
Continue reading “Intangible grief”Anger masking
I see anger as something that can not only be destroying but also as something very motivating… it creates surges of energy… some anger can’t be avoided for sure but underneath that anger lies the real reason and the real reason creates – sometimes, screaming agony. In that agony there is a kind of helplessness -which – we prefer to avoid. We’d rather the energy and momentum of the anger than feel/know/address the true core. Praise God we are not helpless in fact, but we do have to recognise and explore the pain that is there in order to heal.
Losing my car
I experienced something of a time-warp today.
Have you ever headed out into the carpark in the direction of where you parked your car the LAST time you were there? That’s what I did today, not altogether uncommon for me but the twist to it today was that it was over four years ago that I parked in the spot where I found myself looking for my car.
The place was Pinnaroo Cemetary and I had just been to the memorial service for a wonderful fellow who has been our neighbour for over 22 years.
Doug was the kind of neighbour that everyone needs. Friendly, cheerful, chatty, genuine, gentlemanly and retired. The combination of his nature and the fact he was retired, meant he knew, noticed and cared about the happenings in the surrounding homes. He knew and asked after everyone by name… remembered all the kids ages… and who always went the extra mile.
There was the time we went on holidays and as well as feeding our cats and collecting the mail, he took the bins out on rubbish day (which I hadn’t even thought of) AND WASHED THEM after he brought them in.
There was the time some 7 years ago when I knocked on their door full of emotion at our family happenings and barely got hello out of my mouth before dissolving in tears for his kindly face of enquiry.
There was the time shortly after that when he and his wife Pat came over for morning tea and I heard a little of their life and travels.
Gems.
I love watching couples who have been together a long long time.
They teach without knowing they do.
I’ve never been to a funeral and not wished there had been more time.
Throughout the service it was as though I was existing in another service in the same chapel both that moment AND four years ago. Doug’s service today remembered and celebrated a long life of nearly nine decades – the service four years ago was for a life of only four years. It felt like it had been just last week so real was the overlay of memory.
I’ve never been to a funeral and not wished there had been more time.
Remembering two special people today.
One 88, one 4.
Both Home.
“Lord, make me to know my end and [to appreciate] the measure of my days—what it is; let me know and realize how frail I am [how transient is my stay here]… So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom…”