King of Hearts

King of Hearts.  I haven't posted in some time. I have good reasons.  I am doing what was asked of me: to let people love me. Actually, I was given that task about three years ago. I didn't think that was what was going on.  I saw myself...helping someone else...and that was my only task. I was wrong.  That was not my only task.  It just seemed that way...or perhaps, it was the only task I could bring myself to look at. 
God works in mysterious ways. Clever ways. Annoying ways.
Yesterday was a great and wonderful day. I think the morning could have lasted forever and I would have been happy. I spent it with my daughter...and we talked about real things, used real words. It was a time and a conversation I had been waiting for all my life. Even so, I still did not let it last too long...and I ask myself why.  Because I didn't want to ruin it.
When good things arrive, I still approach with great caution.  Much differently than walking boldly into danger, which was pretty much my standard when I was a kid. 
I think about how we learn...and somewhere, close to the beginning, I somehow learned that my life had little value, other than a means to an end.  As much as I hate writing that, I have found that to be the case with many women...and some men. We somehow learn we are simply a means to an end, and that affects all of our choices. Especially when it comes to love.
Why do some people marry?  Do they marry for love? Or for safety?  Do they marry because it is 'what people do when they get all growed up' or to they marry to escape their current reality?  Do they marry to hurt someone else? To let someone go?  Or are they just bored?  Do they need money, food, security?  Or do they just want to escape their own thoughts? 
Of course, there are great and wonderful answers, too. But most often, I enter into people's live when they are asking the questions above...which can be summed up into perhaps this question: "Is that all there is?" 
With real love, with true love, deep unchanging commitment to the good of the other...life never asks "Is that all there is?" because there is never an end to love.  One is never too full, the filling space just grows along with the action of love. And it is not exclusive to marriage. Or to children.
There exists and encompassing self-giving that transcends any way we attempt to measure it.  But it is not always idyllic, romantic or satisfying...love is sometimes quite painful.

I have a new watcher. He listens quite well. I don't have to hold back...I don't even have to think of holding back...and that is a sweet freedom to finally acquire.  His entry into my life has allowed me to be even more authentic with all the other wonderful people in my life.  It feels a bit like swimming in a lake with no bottom.  The water is cool and clear, and no matter how far you look down, there seems to be just more clean beautiful water.  Yet the thought still comes...what if there is a sea monster, a Leviathan, waiting...for that final surrender...when the kill might be so easy. 
Such is the mind of someone learning to trust love. 

And so odd that God would finally bring him in these moments of great challenge. I didn't think I would ever have to make the phone call where the person on the other end of the line would answer, "Texas Oncology."  Heart disease, I expected someday. My biological mother had a bad heart. She also had trouble with love...or loving.  The mother that raised me clearly had trouble with loving.  So I have not had too much teaching in it, only what I could discern from watching my friends' families, who were sometimes darker than my own. 

You see how I steer away...the blood I received in the transfusion was the greatest blessing.  I was depressed because I was more and more unable to do much of anything...and then the pain began to increase all over my body. It was only when I could no longer put food into my mouth without having to fight pain, that I decided to go to the doctor.  Let me be even more specific: when it became painful to receive Holy Communion, I knew that I had to do something.

I reacall Jill, on the cliff, in Aslan's country...in the book "The Silver Chair," which is the book on penance and reconciliation.  The waters of life were before her...and she was so very thirsty...but a great and terrible lion sat at the edge of the waters. The lion said, "If you are thirsty, drink." And Jill said, "How do I know you will not kill me?" And Aslan told her she would not know, that he had killed many people...but he also told her if she did not drink she would die. 

Such is the metaphor for love. You risk it, knowing you might die from it. And you might. The horrors of 2012, too many killings, too many broken hearts...and I believe all of it happened because of love...and the lack of it, the fear of it...and quite truthfully too much of it. But it is as Paul writes, the hunger for love killed to many people...it always does...because many of us don't have any real clue of what love is...and we can become very jealous of people who we think understand it.

I want to write so many things here...all the images in my head...of the love, the redemption, the forgiveness, the hope, the kindness...all swirling around in my bowl.  My supervisor is correct, poetry may be the only way to communicate what seems to be forming in my head. There is just too much to explain. 

The doctor does not know what is wrong with me, except that my blood is not working correctly. So now I must allow specialists into my life. All the work I have done as a chaplain, was it preparing me to act with grace in the moments I much now enter?  I can say without question that my work has taken on greater humility and intention, as I examine my own fears: wanting a miracle, wanting courage, wanting good and helpful answers. And maybe it won't be cancer. I am optimistic enough to believe that the problem might be more manageable. But if it is not, then...I will face it. 

And here's the kicker: in addition to this challenge refining my skills as a chaplain, God is forcing me into that place I have avoided for more than 50 years...I have to let people help me...and horror of horrors: I have to let people love me.  When you have not grown up knowing what that looks like, I can assure you that it is as scary as hell.  I had no idea how many walls I had put up, until I began the work of dismantling them.  and I often feel great anger at the people who interferred with my life and upset my world.

Even more frustrating, I have to let people love me who I don't particularly like.

So I'm going to enjoy this good blood while it works.  I am greatly fearful when the symptoms return. I am hyper-vigilant to the activity of my body right now. My thought is that we all are.  It is the only reason I write here.  Otherwise, I'd be writing in my journal.  Slowly I am talking out the adventures which lead to now and what lie ahead...and I watch the eyes carefully.  It is so curious to see love there...I had so convinced myself that I was merely a means to an end. 

I must be careful here, let me assure you that I have never doubted God's love, and though I might kid around, I do not "blame" God for anything in my life. I wonder sometimes about the teachings, but they always seems quite profound once the teaching is complete...but God did not cause anything evil in my life...humanity did that...and it is humanity that I must forgive.

Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing. And I must forgive them. I was made for love and in love.  I cannot deny my father, nor my mother, nor my spouse. 

Do whatever He tells you.
Damn.
Even when I bend, when I give in,
He only asks for more.
And out of love, I must always say yes,
Because in love, I am...
And finally, quite oddly,
I have to let that love wound me all over again...or maybe for the very first time.

I went to a birthday party last night. I really did not want to go, but I loved my friend more than I wanted to stay home. I'm just not good company now. I am not entertaining. I am a burden.  But I went, because I loved. Her. And I enjoyed watching her celebrate...and suddenly realizing I was celebrating with her. I did not have to be afraid of what was happening to me inside, because right then, it was a good day and everyone was having a good time.  And I laughed at all the fun things going on...as I knew the stories of many in the room...and I thought, how marvelous we are, human beings, how resilient and strong and brave...and how very playful...and that being there reminded me quite rudely: I don't have to do any of this alone. This is a new world, a new Jerusalem...this is a taste of heaven.

The magician asked me to pick a card, and write my name on it. 
I picked the King of Hearts.
And I wrote my name on His heart.
He sais put it back in the deck.
Then he chose a card, and scribbled lines on the back of it. 
He said it was all messed up
So he shook it around...
and showed it to us...
and there is was,
My name.
MY name.
My NAME.
And he turned over the card...
And there
On the King of All Hearts...
was my name...
and everybody marveled at the magic

magic...

Love,
Cindy