Repeats

I have two television shows on right now.  Both of them I have seen several times before. Outside my window, the hanging basket swings back and forth to remind me that the doves have returned.  Yesterday I lost my Duffy keys...again.  My house is messy...again.  I'm still waiting for my annulment papers...wondering if the Catholic Church is going to give a second chance.  A very tall, attractive man waited for me after Mass this morning at St Monica's.  I saw him and ran as quickly as I could in another direction.  I don't need to be tempted to make another mistake.

Then, at the hospital, during the last IPR we were going to have, a man in the group made a sound. A certain kind of sound, that reminded me of a grave evil committed against me 40 years ago.  Suddenly I felt nauseous and threatened. I wanted to run out of the room.  It took twenty minutes for my heart to stop pounding. It wasn't his fault.  He simply made a sound.

Memories...likes the corners of my mind. Misty water color memories of the way we were. 

We can learn from our mistakes, we can forgive our enemies and our friends...but forgetting is more about biology than choice. The whole point of training to be a chaplain is to pay attention to our past...and how it informs the present moment. We have to know what we feel so that it is helpful and nor harmful in a time of crisis.  How well we know ourselves is the best indicator of how we will chaplain, pastor, befriend people. 

We mark ages and seasons by the moon and the sun. We have habits and rituals. Now we are in Lent. 40 days, which in Hebrew is an unspecified amount of time, but generally is interpreted as "enough."  We take the time to reflect on the repeats in our lives.

Some stories we want to hear over and over again.  Those stories take us to a happy place.  They help us remember the good, when perhaps the "not good" is all around us.  Then there are the stories of warning. Sometimes scary stories or morality tales help us remember what not to do.  Often though, it is experience that informs us best. It is the best teacher, for good or for bad.

If you have always been hurt by Jane, or by teachers or by men in authority...you expect a repeat performance.  If you have been consistantly loved by someone, you expect that love to continue.  It all depends, many times, on the repeats of your life...the things that happen...and the things that you choose to surround yourself with.

Mom and Dad were right.  If you hang out with certain people, you will become like them, think like them perhaps even dress like them.  Their ideas and their conclusions become yours.  It's all about repeats.

If they forgot your birthday last year, they will probably forget it this year, too. 

What's the point of these ramblings?  Nothing is set in stone. Change is possible. Sometimes really hard, but possible.  Reclaiming the good. Refusing the bad.  Letting go of that which destroys. Hanging close to that which builds up. 

The doves used to come every year, when I had my piano. They loved the music, but I gave the piano away four years ago to my daughter. And the hanging basket just rotted away.  In a desperate hope, I hung out another basket.  No doves the first year.  I did not plant anything in it. No doves the second year.  But the third year, I went out side and heard that familiar sound of wings flapping...and we had babies again. This year, they are back again.  Without the music, they found the basket.

Nothing ever really stays exactly the same, but we can choose to repeat those things that blessed us before, even though we have changed in many ways...we can bring the blessing back just by being open to it.  And we can let go of continuing to repeat those things that hurt...because we deserve so much better that being hurt over and over again. To do that involves attention to what really happened, to find the real truth...and not just rely on what someone was telling you (and that someone may be yourself)...and then forgive it...or him...or you.

I figure we've got about 27 days left in Lent. To bring back the good. To wash off the bad. Just remember, the calendar is just a calendar...forty is a very fluid number. If Easter comes and your not finished, that's okay. Celebrate with others...and then keep working toward your own Easter...your own resurrection. Stay close to Him, who loved you first. 

I had a great visit with God this morning...and a nice short uplifting conversation with a priest. I told him I was feeling old.  We walked into a group of white haired people and he said, "Look around you," and I smiled at him. But then the day got harder. There was a time all I would remember was the bad: the failures, the disappointments, the ways I hurt others when I meant to love. But I've grown a bit...enough to know that repeats are only there if that's what you want. Adventure into the unknown, trying something different (and healthy!) is good, too. 

Each day, I must forgive others.
Each day, I must forgive myself.
Each day, I must love others
Each day, I must let others love me.
Each day, I must create the good
Each day, I must discard the bad
Oh yeah...and ask God to show me which is which.
And say thank you. 

Not too poetic, but I didn't say anything about perfect here...

There's much more on my mind...always is...

May God greet you with a holy kiss before you fall asleep tonight...He's there for the long haul...you don't need to worry...

Love, Cindy