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Another experiment. 
This song has appeared, then disappeared, the reappeared in my life over the last 16 years.

Today was very hard.  It was hard because I didn't realize just how far I had wandered off away from my own life.  It began on Friday, when I was reminded again of what mattered most...in the midst of all the things I had been doing, all the very good stuff I had been doing, I have somehow lost touch with...me.  I am irritated about what it took for me to see again. The price is very high.  I do not like being submissive to any human being, for any reason, anywhere. Yet it seems, I am not as strong as I thought I was.  In my mind, in my reasoning, God pre-ordained this one. I don't have a choice. But much more is going on than the little thoughts I can muster inside my head. And what began on Friday continued to grow...the first wall came down...and the others, not quite so strong, with more strategic beatings, began to crumble.

There is much to write about. But I've spent the last six months wondering if I would ever let anyone love me. I wondered if I could ever love anyone in that truly intimate, vulnerable level...and survive it.  But a deeper question was revealed to me today. Rather, I suppose, an observation: Did anyone ever really care about what I thought, or felt...that didn't involve some pedagogical exercise?  Writing here, there is an illusion that someone will read it...and learn from it. But writing here, is only a facade of living. I realized today how I have been engaging and helpful in the last three years, but that I was living only half of a life. I gave but I did not receive.  I am only just beginning to see what that looks like.  There are shadows in front of me, but no form yet.  The mirror is still dirty. 

I was challenged today. The sword was placed into my side and, try as I like, out poured water and blood.  I was given a choice. I did not have to let it happen, but I had a goal...I still wish to do my work.  I wish to be skilled and not just gifted in the art of pastoral ministry.  So I took the hit and stayed inside the feeling and felt the life pouring out of me...and I watched as a few tried to rescue me, the warrior stood silently by after his wounding of me, leaning on his sword...and the woman observor, continued to ask, "What do you see?  What do you feel?"  and she shut down all interruptions.

And I stayed with the feelings, until I could name them...then I stepped out of myself and observed: so this is what is like to be really listened to.  What I have just received, I want to give. And as my tears began to dry, I saw how beautiful it is to be loved.  Really loved.

Now begins the task of learning to do the same.

There is a good reason to reflect on the Stations of the Cross regularly.  Yes, this form of prayer, corporate and private, reinforces our faith...but much more than that, it is the way to listen, the way to hear, the way to be truly present in another person's sufferings.  To love without touching...and then to love with touching. A gentle grasp of hand that says, "with you, I don't feel quite so all alone." Or perhaps a cool rag over the face on on the back of the neck.  To have help getting back up when we fall, to know in the midst of all those who might want to destroy us, there will always be people who love us...in ways that will help us get through the impossible. To open our hands and say yes, wound me, if it teaches me how to live. And that dying is only temporary when we love completely.  Because true love never dies...and we know that God is love.  And if true love exists at all, it is because God exists and God is present in it.

I'm not writing this very well, and I apologize for that. Something is happening to me that I have been waiting for, praying for, hoping for. It is so good, though all I see is the shadow...I want everyone I know to find it, receive it, know it, live it.

I wish I could explain better. Ask God to show you what is keeping you from becoming totally immersed in Him.  He will tell you what you still hold that stops you from loving Him with all your being. Perhaps you are already there. Perhaps you don't yet want to let go of what you have. I realize most people don't have to flush the trauma I have had in my life. But I'm thinking a few people out there might want to know what I am learning, or perhaps better said, how I am learning...

When I get it figured out for real, I'll write a real book, make a million dollars or so and build a retreat center where people can feel safe enough to let God's love inside them. And sing to God their own version of  "thank you." 

Love, Cindy