life drums on......

It has been said that we are made up of three persons....

The person we think we are.

The person others think we are.

And the person God knows we are.

How does one integrate these three?  Or are we supposed to strive for that?  I ask because I sometimes get stuck in a place wondering how I could be so wrong in thinking that I was "seen" in one way, but really it was the opposite. 

I ask God......... I receive silence surrounded by ringing in my ears.  Ringing silence.  Maybe the answer is that it just doesn't matter.  Well, if it didn't matter so much, then why is the wound still weeping?

Let it go........... let it go...........  

Listen to the ringing.  

Just be.

Just be your messy imperfect self.
Don't rush it.
You're where you are..... can't rush it.

Never lose your sense of humour.

Listen to the ringing.
God's ringing.

Let it go.
Sit in it for a while. Then, just let it go.....

Ok.

I struggle with who I am.  At the very core, it seems as though I am the same person.  Why does the colour of my flesh seem unknown to me?  It keeps altering.... shedding layers.  Shedding losses.  Shedding skin.  I've lost half of the hair on my head.  It's freaking me out. Good thing I have a whole whack of it. No one notices but me. My thought patterns still serpentine through choppy waters chartered so many times I do it in my sleep too.  Disturbed sleep.  

March:  In like a disturbed lamb.....

That's reality.  
This year is a replay.  
No way around it.
It's also a remake.... an adjustment along with grief.  
It is what it is. 
And it's almost coming to an end....

The rest of this past year?  
Unbelievable. 
I am loved beyond my comprehension.   
What a contradiction.
It makes my head spin!!!!!

I am who I am.  But, who is that person?  And who is the person I tried to plant seeds of encouragement and support for only to have the flowers shrivel on the stems? For so long, I looked beyond  to what I truly envisioned..... what I BELIEVED was there only to have those beliefs quashed time and again until I second guessed.  Until I began to see it as simply an illusion.  I am the one who saw brilliance! Or was it simply reflections off recycled tin?

Beliefs can stagger into setting cement, then fossilize into tired rituals.  Rituals become whining sighs whistling laments.   I gave up trying to encourage, convince, support.  I never gave up love.  I never gave up love.   Sure, it was smothered by frustration, anger......tantrum drumming. What did it look like from the outside looking at me?   Love dressed in ugly rags instead of youthful glances.  It looked like un-love.  I pushed too hard, said too much,  voice too many opinions.  Hid in fear. I stopped supporting, turned inward, disconnected.

Drifting love, away from home's harbour.  That's where we were. 

You know what's strangely difficult to adjust to?  Hearing my name.  I was always called some term of endearment.  Instead, I hear my name .  It sounds edgy. Formalized.  It makes me cringe.  My own name in his voice. 

OK, so..................

When does one feel the acceptance of the lesson "its the best thing that could've happened?"  When do you understand the meaning of the comment...."You were too much for him?" Surely not in the dead of winter when one is worn out by ruminations too tired to repeat.  Definitely not when one is only a step ahead of lonely, patterned by a single set of footprints on winter's stark palette.

Life drums on, during winter nights when the whole world slumbers under blankets of grief. Can you hear the drumming? It keeps you company as you learn to blend the three ways of seeing who you are.... Growth continues in dark places.  Above the drumming I hear voices of encouragement.  I hear hymns of renewal.

"Light needs dark to stick it in...."
"Healing is fostered by reflections softened by time"
"Follow the gleam...."
"Stillness offers the gift of timeless blues..."
"You have no idea how beautiful you are...."
"You are so beautiful...."


I can feel a lifting of spirits.  Everyday.   Soon spring will be showing its melting moments.  Soon, spring will return into the bodies burdened by winter's pummeling.  Soon, layers of woolen repentance will fall away.... Snowbank fortresses will surrender to temperatures rising.  Life drums on...

rising.
arising....
renewal.....
renewal.....

Now? The haunting scripts from broken ties don't dominate me.  They return, but they leave.  And when they return inside a reflection, they aren't so loud and obnoxiously prevalent.  I can walk straight when those nasty visitors pop in rather than experience a doubled over blow to the soul.  Life drums on.  Beating hope.  Beating heart.  Beating strength and new eyes that see beauty both inside and out.

Three persons drumming three different beats that begin to blend.
Who we think we are...
Who others think we are.....
Who God knows we are......

ring, ring, ringing........
in the silence there is ringing......
It is where He dwells.