Surrendering .. letting go

There have been many moments over the past week or so where I have felt like I had reached the end of my rope .... clinging on so tightly it was like I could no longer hang on. Then this image of one set of footprints in the sand came into my heart. I needed to surrender ... to let go ... and to fall into the arms and the love of God and of my family and friends and my furry 4-legged angels.

I've struggled with significant health issues over the past year and this past week received more bad news. I'm working on reframing "bad" to simply, more news ... not good and not bad. I am working on truly letting go and surrendering myself into the arms of God. Today, I feel moved to share the Footprints in the Sand poem:

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Last night I had a dream. I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonged to me, the other to the Lord. 

After the last scene of my life flashed before me, I looked back at the footprints in the sand. I noticed that at many times along the path of my life, especially at the very lowest and saddest times, there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.  “Lord, you said once I decided to follow you, You’d walk with me all the way. But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life, there was only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”

The Lord replied, “My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of suffering, when you could see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”

Resurrection

Today, many are celebrating Easter. For Christians, it's the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ 3 days after his death. I was raised in a Buddhist country, Thailand, by a very devout Catholic mother. I remember going to church, religiously, every Sunday - Holy Redeemer Church in Bangkok, Thailand. I remember Easter week ... I remember having to go to church on Thursday, and Friday, and Saturday and then again on Sunday. As a kid, I don't think I really understood what all this was about or why we had to go to church so much. I remember Palm Sunday, the easter eggs, having to get dressed up (and how I hated that!), the chocolate -- yes, even in Thailand on the other side of our globe, we too celebrated with chocolate! So much of my going to church was because I was supposed to. So much of my adult life has been trying to make sense of who I am, what I believe, and how faith, spirituality and even organized religion fit, or don't fit, in my life. At the young age of 9 I was sexually molested by a deacon of the Catholic church and a close family friend. With all the news surrounding the sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic church, I understand the pain of carrying a secret. It took me almost 36 years to finally, completely free myself of that secret, that cross. Yet, i still found comfort, silently, in my belief that there is a God. I also believed (and still do) in Jesus Christ. I also believe in Buddha. I also believe that God takes many forms. I now also have learned to separate the human flaws of priests and deacons who wear the robe and in particular the one deacon who ripped me of my innocence while at the same time taught me how to pray the rosary. How do I as an adult come to terms with such conflicting messages, with God, with Jesus, with a Higher Power/Being, with pain and secrets ...  so much of what I was taught as a child is that I can only have this sacred relationship if I go to church, and if I believe in the scriptures or the bible ... I can't say I've ever read the bible. I can't say I believe in all that is written in the verses. But I do believe in God. I do believe God is within each and every one of us. Call me crazy, but yes, I do believe in miracles.

I don't celebrate Easter anymore, at least not the way many do. Not because I don't believe in the resurrection of Christ. Truth is, I went through the motions of "celebrating" Easter for many, many years as a child. It didn't carry as much meaning as it does for me this Easter morning - this morning I reflect on what Christ/God means to me .... silently, quietly at our dining room table. I pray every morning. I meditate every morning. I write every morning. And every morning, and every night, I thank God for the gift of another day.

The heaviest cross I have had to carry is the secret of my sexual abuse. I have set myself free from that secret. This is my first Easter where I no longer carry that secret in my heart. Resurrection means "to rise from the dead". In many ways, I feel like I am being re-born. This is a new year. And as the sun emerges over the horizon, I welcome with open arms all that is yet to be.

Easter for me is about being born again. It's about new beginnings. No easter eggs or chocolate bunnies for me this year. Instead, my life. As my dog Ahnung would say to me "mom ... that's a pretty good trade..... now where's my treat??"

Faith, the moon, mandalas and more ...

The other night over a thin crust veggie pizza at Rafferty's in Nisswa, Minnesota my partner began sharing facts about loons. I was fascinated by all she shared. Earlier that day she had immersed herself in a book on loons she had purchased at the local bookstore. And the day before, she found a new love ... mandalas. What emerged from that dinner conversation was a project, a game, a way to connect, a way to make sense of the incredible world around us - both complex and simple - and way to find meaning of our emotions, our life and our universe. What emerged was a joint new adVenture ... a commitment by both of us to write in a new blog: Kaleidoscope Spirits: Two spirits living life like a kaleidoscope. Light, pebbles, reflection. Making sense of arbitrary life patterns.


My partner has also begun  her own project: A mandala a day. Her excitement for mandalas has triggered a curiosity in me to learn more as well. I stumbled across an incredible artist Sally Horne and her website Moonstone Mandala. I found the image above from her website. She shares more about it on her website and says her artwork was inspired by a David Whyte poem: 

Faith


I want to write about faith
about the way the moon rises
over cold snow, night after night,


faithful even as it fades from fullness,
slowly becoming that last and impossible
slither of light before the final darkness.


But I have no faith myself
I refuse it the smallest entry.


Let this then, my small poem,
like a new moon, slender and barely open,
be the first prayer that opens me to faith.

This past week I witnessed the most beautiful full moon, and the very next morning the most breathtaking sunrise. I often wonder why I find myself so intrigued by so many things ... a natural curiosity to want to know more. I look up into the skies ... mind boggling to know that a star I am looking at may no longer even exist, because of the distance it has traveled for light and its image to reach my eyes. I look down on the ground and look at a seed ... mind boggling to know that a tiny seed will grow into a majestic tree or a flower ... and then I think about our bodies, our human bodies ... amazing isn't it to know that our bodies know how to heal themselves, how to fight off disease and foreign substances, how scabs form when we cut ourselves.  And tonight i listened to the podcast of Asteroids, Stars and the Love of God on Speaking of Faith. I ponder faith, my relationship to God, the intersection, if any, between science and religion/faith. 

and then I look around me ... 3 beautiful big black dogs and a tuxedo kitty, fast asleep. Ahnung snoring, Mister twitching in his sleep (he must be chasing bunnies!), Missy curled up as close to me as possible, and Henry burrowed in a blanket on the leather chair. Life really is simple. We often try to complicate matters ... maybe even think too much. My partner is using the mandala making process as a way to put the chaos of her mind and/or her life into order, symmetry. For me, I am reminded to how to simply be by our dogs ... and calm and peace come to me in my early mornings with meditation and writing. 

Faith, the moon, mandalas, dogs, cats, trees, God ..... there's a thread that binds us all together, in this life time and in whatever comes after this.