Hold and Release

I was thinking how often I hold onto things and how hard it is to let go of it all. The guilt, the shame, the hurt, the broken heart, the dreams that never came. How much of life and time and thoughts are caught up in the idea of trying to still fix that one thing. Make it what I wished it could be.

I really like to write and even more so now that I realize I am not the Author of my own story. There's a lot of frustration that comes with that. Because I learned as a child that your life is what you make it, you can choose this or that and that determines who you'll be. This can only be true in a life without relationships. You add another person to the story (by relationship) and you have very little control and NOW the story is not only your own story. Writing helps me escape and work through my own story. Don't get me wrong, there are very beautiful parts of my story. But the truth is: I really HATE to live my story! (Although my fellow book club members can all tell you I love a good Tragedy! Why? "Because that's real, THAT I can relate to. Happy endings are easy writing, and I guess always just out of reach for me.)

My story is full of pain and sorrow. Of broken relationships, utter heartbreak, cruelty and selfishness. I hate that it's what I have to live because of the brokenness of what this world is, in opposition to what it was meant to be. That I strive to somehow FIX this brokenness through my own devise is bewildering, I know. But somehow, I manage to forget continually that the dream I have to make this life of mine, IS NOT FOR THIS LIFE. It is the dream that is for the LIFE beyond...

I know, this is sad, right? Sorrow beyond sorrow. And so I strive to hold onto what I hope for, refuse to not give up on, and still somehow gain that ability to release what is lost, and can never be. And I struggle with the wisdom to know which to do and I struggle with giving up all the control. Yet, in reality, I never truly had any control. Now did I?

"There is a fine line between cuddling, and holding someone down so they can't get away." -unknown

Sometimes we must change to see what we had hoped for

The Giant Forest
an original bedtime story told to LuLu, by Kristy Day



Past the golden fields glistening in the sun; beyond the flowing rivers ripe with jumping fish; through the flowering meadows of wildflowers lies the vastness of the Giant Forest. A forest of trees so large you can hardly see the skies, lush with leaves of green.

Where one lone caterpillar spends his days with a full belly. But he is never satisfied. Day and night he's in search of another one like him. He asks the owls, "can you fly over the trees to see if there is another like me?" But the owl says, "this forest is too big, I cannot fly high enough." He asks the squirrels, "can you climb to the highest point in the forest and tell me if you see another one like me?" And the squirrel says, "I cannot climb that high." He even wakes the sleeping giant. "Have you ever see another like me?" "even I cannot see above these Giant trees," answers the Giant.

But in all the searching, not one other animal has ever seen another like him.

After searching with all his might, the lone caterpillar loses hope. He sits on a giant leaf and thinks of all the leaves he has to eat in this great green forest. He thinks of how lovely it would be if only he could share it with other caterpillars, and the thought makes him sad. Because even with all that he has, it really means nothing without being able to share it with others...

And the caterpillar begins to cry at this very sad thought. And the more he looks out at the endless, giant leaves, the more he sobs. Hour upon hour, he sobs and sobs. Until his body begins to feel heavy. His eyes are heavy and his body is weary. And he gives in to the deep sleep that such sadness brings.

He sleeps for many days and the sleep is peaceful and the sleep is good.

But when he finally stirs from his slumber, he begins to panic. For darkness has surrounded him, and he does not know where he is. He is frightened at this and he begins to move. He violently kicks and pushes all around him; something is trapping him in the darkness. He is trapped and he can't see, and he is kicking and kicking and kicking.

Then Suddenly a ray of golden sun beams through the darkness. And he fights even more, and he is no longer scared; he is excited! His heart is jumping for the hope of what the light means! Freedom!

And as he breaks free, he leaps with joy. He leaps so hard he shoots straight up to the sky. He realizes the ease in which he flies through air. And he begins to look around him. What he sees is beautiful, colorful wings surrounding him. They are his! And now he is flying above the forest of trees! And all around him are others like him. A rainbow of colors surround him. Beautiful creatures with bright, delicate wings!

The treetops are full of butterflies! And he is happy!

Flip-flop world

One broken heart mending,
an impossibility has found hope,
this girl does not see the same face in the mirror,
and a year has changed everything.

Even to read my last post I hardly recognize the me in it. That great faith and excitement; the endless possibilities in which I believed. But OH, how I want to believe.

Who is this one I see; this me? All I know; all that I can see, is: "O but for the grace of God go I"

And I wonder where to go from here...
for I fear that what I know I must be,
may be just too hard for me.

I would love to spend the hours of solitude, the meditation and prayer, trapped inside. Like the monks in this pagoda...




And what shall become of me? What do I see? How can it be? That You my God should die for me...?