For those of you who cannot abide another's reality, you may want to skip this one; it is intensely personal. One might ask Why would she want to write something so personal? Well, I'm glad you asked. Consider that if I were a so-called celebrity -- you know -- celebrity -- one of those women who has babies out of wedlock and it makes the news because she's been on television or in a movie (all action, no acting) or made a recording that while commercially successful, there was more substance in the accompaniment than the words to the song, and the video was much more successful because she had an opportunity to bare her buttocks, gyrate her body and make a lot of little girls and young teens want to emulate her behavior -- you know -- a celebrity -- folks would be dying to know. Sad, sad, sad commentary. It is not that I desire to air my personal affairs -- quite the contrary. In fact, when I was young I wanted to be involved in local politics. I really believed I had something to offer other than hot air puffery -- some actual solutions instead. My unwillingness to reveal when I lost my virginity and bounced my first check stifled my political ambitions. Those tidbits of information would have been far more interesting to media and electorate, rather than substantive solutions.
Yes, this writing is personal. But on the other hand, this writing is necessary. It is more than a purification ritual for me. It's not even part of the grieving process (that ended a long time ago). This is so personal that when I started it on December 19, 2008, I decided to put it away. Since then I have looked at the title but continued to write other stuff. But today, July 21, 2009, is the day this blog will be published.
Why today??? Why not? So much has happened since December 19 last year, and still this transition is not quite over. In fact most of the events between then and now I am not even allowed to write about. It would be a violation for me to say something disparaging, even if true. Now, how sad is that? Is it my fault that there may be one who is so ashamed of his actions that he doesn't want others to know of them? Are we to coddle and protect those who trespass against others because it humiliates them for others to know of their infractions??? Are the rights of the trespassers superior to those whom they trespass against? Let's get real here. I'm not talking about a minor; I'm talking about a supposed adult - definitely old enough -- way old enough -- even though that particular adult's behavior is more representative of a juvenile.
Because of those prohibitions, you, the reader, will be spared the gory details. So you are invited to use your imagination and think of all the ugly, truly ugly occurrences that might transpire between two people when one seeks a peaceful resolution of a dispute based on what is fair and the other's attitude is what makes you think life is fair?
Have you ever felt as if you were lying on the ground while others took turns kicking you -- the blows to your legs, hands, chest, back and head continuing relentlessly as you lay, helpless and unable to defend yourself? Earlier this year I actually envisioned such a spectacle, and in my vision I was the recipient of the Well-Placed Foot. But somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I eventually remembered (not soon enough, but at least I remembered) that as a Believer, my fight is not with the foot or the person to whom it belongs; nor is it with the one who strikes blows for which no physical contact is made, the emotional blows that can be even more painful than ones to the body.
I am reminded of an often quoted passage of scripture: For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. (Ephesians 6:12, NIV).
Perhaps you're more comfortable with the KJV: For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, againstspiritual wickedness in high places.
But if the Word is not something you're accustomed to reading, check out this paraphrased version, courtesy of John Peterson's The Message: This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.
As usual, I walk around the tree (would one rather I say beat around the bush?) before I sit. This is what I'm saying: Every facet of our lives represents a possibility for pain and conflict, as well as joy, a sense of well-being, and a lot of other warm fuzzy stuff. Sometimes the pain and conflict are self-inflicted when we make wrong choices. But sometimes the pain and conflict are instigated by others who make wrong choices. Whether by our own choice, or that of someone else, we can be subjected to excruciatingly painful experiences. The key, at least for me in the midst of this year's unpleasantries, is to remember that my struggle is not with the "kicker" but rather with the spirit of the one with the Well-Placed Foot. In the moments of absolute agony experienced this year, I am blessed to have been reminded by folks who care for me, that neither physically or spiritually am I alone. At the core of not being alone, whenever the clouds were blackest and thickest, the silver lining revealed the One who always listens and reminds me of the joy that transcends being kicked, literally and figuratively, whether by one imp of the enemy or the man-contrived system we call justice (talk about the bastardization of a word -- but I'll save that for another time).
So despite there being, from time to time, an absence of happiness, the joy is always there. The happiness -- the contentment and satisfaction of the moment or circumstance, can be pivotal. I see the "h" word as conditional. One can be happy one moment, and unhappy the next. But then there is the "J" word. Joy is not for the moment. Joy is despite the moment. It is despite the blows to one's body and one's mind. The Joy in knowing that there is One Who grants us new mercies each morning, Who never changes, whose faithfulness is sooooo great, Who is strength for today and gives us hope for tomorrow, and that will dwell in you, if you let Him, makesunhappy pale in comparison, for there is no such thing as unjoy.
The bottom line is this: stuff happens in life all the time. Before the fecal matter hits the circular rotary blades, may I suggest latching onto the One Who won't leave you in those unhappy moments, and Who will give you a measure of grace, peace, and a huge dose of Joy to carry you through the times when the stuff stinks?
Many thanks to Phyllis T for planting the seed that compelled me to finish this writing.
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