Tuesday's Trust - Heart Scars in The Lepers' Colony

Tuesday's Trust

Heart Scars

in

The Lepers' Colony

Heart Scars in The Lepers' Colony

We of the lepers' colony know who we are;

We limp, we falter, we need to hide…

We notice: our friends, too, retreat afar…

So to tend our wounds, in our Lord we abide ~

He is our safety: He accepts where we are;

He embraces our honesty; He comes alongside.

We of the lepers' colony know who we are;

Our wounds, too deep, others run far and wide

Yet we know deep love must bleed out, though it creates scar after scar,

So our own wounds we tend, and to other lepers confide.

As we groan and we limp and cannot run far,

We narrow our world, and make time to abide

In the deep Spirit of God who comes alongside.

He too knows deep grief as His Son left His side

To go and love others, and suffer Love's scars

Even to death, so He could bring us alongside

To come to His Father, and in His love abide.

(He suffers when each of us lambs, running afar,

Afraid of our own needs, in fear we hide,

Not letting Him come near to see who we are,

And yet, we need a Savior both to rescue and chide

To draw us to Him, and to face who we are.)

Without facing our pain, and our own hurt denied,

We cheat ourselves, allowing Him to bear all our scars,

Till with Love He o'ercomes us and opens our eyes

To know we need Him to help us face ourselves, and carry Love's scars.

So now too we cherish our pain gushing from inside,

Though it torments and wounds, healing over into each scar,

For each scar represents the Love we still have for our child

And reminds us of our mothering and fathering, for that's who we are.

With all the joys and the pains, we come to our child's side;

In embracing all the emotions, we feel our pierced side,

Yet we know it's all worth it, for that's who we are,

Mothers and Fathers who love, rendered lepers with scars…

We of the lepers' colony know who we are,

But we rejoice despite pain, knowing the love treasured within each scar!

Jesus, despite His perfection in Heaven, today still retains Love's scars!

So when we see them in Heaven, we'll be reminded each time

Of such love poured out for us, surpassing any other love by far…

So perhaps, when sprung into Heav'n from our lepers' colony, we too will still bear Love's scars…

Perhaps our children will be overjoyed to see the depths of our love poured out for them within each of our Love-filled scars.

Poem - Heart Scars in The Lepers' Colony - Angie Bennett Prince - June 24, 2014

Top Graphic, thanks to

Hole in My Heart

Dominique Fariza-Buerkett

~Pinterest

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/272890058645838234/

Graphic #2, thanks to 

Loved ones in heaven

Christine Burns

~Pinterest

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/424393964858645462/

Saturday's Sayings - True Grievers

Saturday's Sayings

True Grievers

~via Grieving Mother, Jackie Wergin Trudeau

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To Our Loving Friends Nearby:

~Darlene's Photos

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And Thank you to our Online Friends!

~Words of Wisdom

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~Missing Loved Ones

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~Healing Hugs

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~Grief the Unspoken

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~Steeping through Grief

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Recipe: Raw Grief:

~DrJoanne.com blog

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Message from Our Child in Heaven:

~thanks to Jody Riggs-Martin's son Tony Diaz 12/16/80 - 3/2/2011

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Message to Our Child in Heaven:

First picture, thanks to ~Whoop de doo da

Friday's Faith - The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead - "A Work of the Freest Love" ~Søren Kierkegaard - Part Three

"If we are to love the men we see, then we are also to love those whom we have seen but see no more because death took them away.... 

"(O)ne must remember the dead; 

weep softly, but grieve long."

Friday's Faith

The Work of Love in Remembering One Dead

"A Work of the Freest Love"

~Søren Kierkegaard (1813 - 1855)

Part Three

"Beloved, let us love one another.

1 John 4:7a (NASB)

From Works of Love

~by Søren Kierkegaard

(translated by Howard and Edna Hong)

The work of love in remembering one who is dead is a work of the freest love. 

In order properly to test whether the love is entirely free, one eliminates everything which in some way could constrain a person to an act of love. But precisely this is absent in the relationship to the one who is dead. If love nevertheless remains, this is the freest love. 

That which can constrain an act of love from a person is extremely varied and can hardly be catalogued. The child cries, the poor man begs, the widow importunes, considerations squeeze, wretchedness forces, and so on. But all love in action which is extracted in this way is not entirely free. 

The stronger the compulsion, the less free is the love. Usually we consider this with reference to parents' love for their children. If one wants to make an adequate description of helplessness and to sketch it in its most compelling form, one usually recalls an infant lying there in all its helplessness, forcing, so to speak, love from its parents---it forces, so to speak, because it really forces love only from the parents who are not what they ought to be. Therefore the infant in all its helplessness! 

And yet, when a person first lies in his grave with six feet of earth over him, he is more helpless than the child!

But the child cries! If the child could not cry---yes, there have been many a father and mother who have nevertheless cared for the child in the fullness of love; but, O, there have also been many a father and mother who at least many times would not forget the child. Our thought is not therefore to call such a mother and father outright unloving; but nevertheless love in them was so weak, so self-seeking, that they needed this reminder, this constraint. 

On the other hand, one dead does not cry like a child; he does not call himself into memory as the importunate do; he does not beg as does the pan-handler; he does not squeeze with consideration; he does not force you by visible wretchedness; he does not besiege you as the widow did the judge: one dead is silent and says not a word; he remains completely still and does not move from the spot---and perhaps he does not suffer evil either! There is no one who inconveniences the living less than the one who is dead and no one who is easier for the living to avoid than one dead. You can leave your child with a babysitter in order not to hear its cry; you can say you are not at home in order to avoid the solicitation of beggars; you can go about disguised so that no one will know you; in short, in relationship with the living you can use many precautions which perhaps still do not give you complete security, but in relationship to one who is dead you do not need the least precaution, and yet you are entirely secure. If anyone is of such a mind, if it best suits his scheme of life to be rid of the dead the sooner the better, without being challenged at all or becoming the object of any sort of prosecution, he can turn cold in approximately the same moment the dead one becomes cold. If only out of shame (certainly not for the sake of the dead) he remembers to weep a little in the newspapers on the burial day, if he merely takes care to show the dead this last honour, out of shame: then he can for all that, spit right in the dead man's---no not right in his eyes, for they are now closed. Naturally one who is dead has no rights in life; there is no public authority whose job concerns whether you remember the dead or not, no authority who mixes into such a relationship as sometimes in the relationship between parents and children---and one dead certainly takes no step to inconvenience or compel in any way.

---If, therefore, you want to test whether you love freely, observe some time how over a period of time you relate yourself to the one who is dead....

O, there is a lot of talk in the world about how love must be free, that one cannot love if there is the slightest constraint, that in matters of love absolutely nothing must be obligated. Well, let's see how things stand with this free love when one gets right down to this---how the dead are remembered in love, for the one who is dead does not compel one at all. Yes, in the moment of separation, when one cannot get along without him who is dead, there is a shriek. Is this the free love so much talked about, is this love for one who is dead? And thereupon, little by little, as the dead crumbles away, the memory crumbles away between the fingers and one does not know what becomes of it; little by little one becomes free of this---burdensome memory. But to become free in this way---is this free love, is this love for one who is dead? The saying puts it well: out of sight, out of mind. And one can always be sure that a proverb speaks accurately of how things go in the world; it is quite another matter that every proverb, Christianly understood, is untrue. 

If everything said about loving freely were true, that is, if it happened, if it were carried out, if men were accustomed to love in this way, men would also love the dead quite differently than they do. But the actual situation is that as far as other human love is concerned there is usually something coercive, daily sight and habit if nothing else, and therefore one cannot definitely see to what extent it is love which freely holds its object fast or it is the object which in one way or another coercively lends a hand. 

But with respect to one dead everything is made clear. Here there is nothing, nothing coercive at all. 

On the other hand, the loving memory of one dead has to protect itself against the actuality around about least by ever new impressions it gets full power to expel the memory, and it has to protect itself against time: in short, it has to protect its freedom in remembering against that which would compel it to forget. 

The power of time is great. One perhaps does not notice it in time, because time slyly steals a little bit away at a time. Perhaps one will get to know this clearly for the first time in eternity when one is required to look back again and around to see what he has managed to get together with the help of time and forty years. Yes, time has a dangerous power; in time it is so easy to make a beginning again and thereby to forget where one left off. Even when one begins to read a very big book and does not completely trust his memory, he puts in a bookmark. But, O, with respect to his whole life, how often one forgets to put in a marker in order to be able to find his place! And now through the years to have to remember one dead while he, alas, does nothing to help one, or whether he does anything or simply does nothing, everything goes to show how completely indifferent he is. 

In the meantime the multiplicity of life's demands beckons to one, the living beckon to one and say: come to us, we will take care of you. One who is dead, however, cannot beckon. Even if he wanted to, he could not beckon. He cannot do a single thing to make us captive to him; he cannot move a finger; he lies and crumbles away---how easy for the powers of life and of the moment to overcome such a weakling! 

O, there is no one as helpless as one who is dead, and in his helplessness he exercises absolutely not the slightest compulsion! Therefore no love is as free as the work of love which remembers one who is dead---for to remember him is something quite different from not being able to forget him at first. 

The work of love in remembering one dead is a work of the most faithful love.

To be continued...

Saturday's Sayings - The "new Normal," Part Four

Saturday's Sayings

The "new Normal"

Part Four

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Pictures - first pic, thanks to "Grieving Mothers," all others, thanks to "Death of a Loved One"

Saturday's Sayings - Looking Up, Amidst Our Tears...

Saturday's Sayings

Looking Up, Amidst Our Tears...

You can feel the whole world and still feel lost in it. So many people are in pain— no matter how smart or accomplished—they cry, they yearn, they hurt. But instead of looking down on things, they look up, which is where I should have been looking, too. Because when the world quiets to the sound of your own breathing, we all want the same things: comfort, love and a peaceful heart....

~Mitch Albom (via Live Laugh Love)

*****

The worst prison is the death of one's child. You never get out of it.

~From the 2008 movie about a mother's child-loss: "I've Loved You So Long"

*****

♥ Please See Me Through My Tears ♥

You asked, "How are you doing?"

As I told you, tears came to my eyes...

and you looked away and quickly began to talk again.

All the attention you had given me had drained away.

"How am I doing?"

I do better when people listen,

though I may shed a tear or two.

This pain is indescribable.

If you've never known it,

you cannot fully understand.

Yet I need you.

When you look away,

I am again alone with it.

Your attention means more than you can ever know.

Really, tears are not a bad sign, you know!

They're nature's way of helping me to heal.

They relieve some of the stress of sadness.

The memory of my loved one's death will always be with me,

Only a thought away.

My tears make my pain more visible to you,

but you did not give me the pain...it was already there.

When I cry, could it be that you feel helpless,

Not knowing what to do?

You are not helpless,

And you don't need to do a thing but be there.

When I feel your permission to allow my tears to flow,

you've helped me.

You need not speak.

Your silence as I cry is all I need.

Be patient...do not fear.

Listening with your heart to "how I am doing" relieves the pain

for when the tears can freely come and go, I feel lighter.

Talking to you releases what I've wanted to say aloud,

clearing space for a touch of joy in my life.

I'll cry for a minute or two... and then I'll wipe my eyes

and sometimes you'll even find I'm laughing later.

When I hold back the tears, my throat grows tight,

my chest aches, my stomach knots...

because I'm trying to protect YOU from my tears.

Then we both hurt ME, because my pain is held inside,

a shield against our closeness and YOU,

because suddenly we are distant.

So please, take my hand and see me through my tears...

then we can be close again.

~Author Unknown

*****

An Ocean of Grief

© Ferna Lary Mills

I cautiously watch the water as it moves along the shore

creeping closer to the sand around my feet.

Beyond the crashing waves, where the water is deepest green

the ocean mirrors the depths of my grief.

My grief is like the ocean, sorrow coming in like waves,

sometimes gentle like a ripple on the sea.

Other times it just engulfs me with crushing waves of sadness

and undertows of despair pull down on me.

Some days I wade out in it, splashing memories with my feet,

recalling days of sunshine on my face.

Stepping through the foamy edges never venturing out so far

that larger waves can threaten their embrace.

Then when I least expect it this freak of nature soaks me

in reality so painful that I fall.

The sorrow and the anger that I've fought with day to day

surge through me in a tidal free-for-all.

One day when I'm much stronger and my grief is not so new

I'll swim just like I used to do before.

I'll take pleasure in the memories,

and tread water in those places

that we can't share together anymore.

*****

What Sad is

Sad is:

waiting for a child to come home who never will again.

not doing their dirty laundry just so that you can smell them.

having the junk they kept in their rooms turn into your greatest treasures.

watching other kids go on to do wonderful things knowing you child is done doing whatever he would have done.

thinking that somehow there must be a mistake, but you know there is no mistake because you kissed your child in his coffin.

never getting the chance to say goodbye.

knowing that an entire branch of your family tree is now gone, no grandchildren or great grandchildren.

seeing movies come out that your child will never see.

not being able to tell your child how much you love him.

having others wonder what you did wrong to make your child take his own life.

wondering what you did wrong to make your child take his own life.

waking up each day to the reality that your child is no more.

having an empty chair at the dinner table.

having every little thing you see or hear hurt you somehow.

waking and thinking you hear your child coming home in the middle of the night only to remember your child is never coming home.

living for your own death and welcoming it.

crying in supermarkets because you see apples or whatever else your child loved to eat.

feeling a sense of disaster non-stop every second of the day.

being helpless to do anything to help your child.

not knowing where your child is.

sobbing when people ask you how many children you have.

fearing people will forget your child.

living without your child.

Sad is only being able to visit your precious child at a grave site....

that is what sad is...

~by Grieving Mother, Bonni Rubinstein, R.I.P. Justin Rubinstein 11/1989 - 11/2010

*****

THE GRIEVER'S HOLIDAY BILL OF RIGHTS.

1.) You have the right to say, "TIME OUT!", anytime you need to. This may mean stepping away from the holidays and giving yourself an opportunity to blow off some steam and start over.

2.) You have the right to TELL IT LIKE IT IS. When people ask, "How are you?" You have the right to tell them how you really feel. If you want to tell them you are "fine" because you don't think they will understand, that is okay too.

3.) You have the right to some "BAH HUMBUG" days. If you don't feel like singing Christmas carols, that is okay.

4.) You have the right to DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY. You can change some of your traditions. You can have the holiday meal at someone else's house. You can choose not to decorate at all.

5.) You have the right to BE WHERE YOU WANT TO BE. You do not have to stay home. You can have the holidays anywhere you want.

6.) You have a right to SOME FUN! It is okay to laugh and have fun. Don't worry what others will think if they see you having a good time. Laughter is just as important and healing as tears.

7.) You have the right to CHANGE DIRECTION IN MID-STREAM. Grief is UNPREDICTABLE. You never know when the wave may hit you especially during the holiday season. If you are having a bad day and feel overwhelmed, it is okay to change your plans.

8.) You have a right to DO THINGS AT DIFFERENT TIMES. Go to church at a different time. Eat at a different time. Open presents at a different time.

9.) You have the right to REST, PEACE and SOLITUDE. You don't have to be busy all the time. Take time to rest, meditate or pray.

10.) You have the right TO DO IT ALL DIFFERENT AGAIN NEXT YEAR. You can keep the changes you make in your holidays or you may decide you want to try something different.

From "Handling the Holidays"

~By Bruce H. Conley

(via Grieving Mothers)

*****

Now I lay you down to sleep.

I pray the Lord your soul to keep.

Within His arms He'll hold you tight.

My Heavenly Angel.

My Guiding Light.

-Author Unknown

And my verses added...

Father, I know my baby sleeps

Even as now this mother weeps.

She's in your arms, placid and calm

Your love for her a healing balm…

Soothe too tonight this broken heart

Kept close to Your own bleeding heart.

You know the pain that child-loss brings

You know Yourself such sufferings...

Grant your peace rest on my brow

Gentle Father, please save me now.

You sent Your Child to save my life,

Your Child saved mine, and gave her Life…

I owe my life to You alone,

You saved my child and took her Home.

Show me today what You'd have me do;

I am Your lamb;You know my plight ~

You are My Way, My Truth, My Light;

Your Love through loss will see me through.

Dear God in Heaven, we all need You!

~Verses added, by Angie Bennett Prince

pictures, thanks to Grieving Mothers and Live Laugh Love

Saturday's Sayings - First… Walk a Mile in My Shoes

Saturday's Sayings

First… Walk a Mile in My Shoes

Many poems in today's post are thanks to "Grieving Mothers"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.

They are ugly shoes.

Uncomfortable shoes.

I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.

Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.

They are looks of sympathy.

I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.

They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.

But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.

There are many pairs in this world.

Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.

Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

~Author Unknown 

*****

Angel in Heaven

There's a special Angel in Heaven

that is a part of me.

It is not where I wanted her

but where God wanted her to be.

She was here but just a moment

like a nighttime shooting star.

And though she is in Heaven

she isn't very far.

She touched the heart of many

like only an Angel can do.

We held her every minute

for the end we all knew.

So I send this special message

to the Heaven up above.

Please take care of my Angel

and send her all my love.

~Author Unknown~

contributed by Grieving Mother, G. T.

*****

A Thanksgiving Prayer for Grieving Families

Dear Father who art in Heaven...

Please join our family on this Thanksgiving day

And bless each one as we sit down to pray

As we remember those who have joined You above

So dearly missed and deeply loved.

Please provide us strength on this Thanksgiving day

Bless us with memories of those faraway...

Please grant patience to family and friends as we grieve

And help us reach out to others who are bereaved.

We give thanks to You on this Thanksgiving day....

For Your presence in our lives each and everyday.

For Your comfort, guidance, and never ending love...

And for taking care of our loved ones...in Heaven above.

As we light this candle on this Thanksgiving day...

And it glows in memory of those in Heaven today....

May their lights always shine down on us and give us light...

And may we feel their presence along with Yours tonight.

May the peace and tranquility of this Thanksgiving day

Be an everlasting light within each of us along the way...

Lets bow our heads and give our Thanks to God above..

For our blessings, whether on earth or in Heaven above...

Amen.

~Grieving Mothers

*****

Walk With Me...

Walk With Me

Walk with me…

Walk in my shoes

for one single day.

Then you’ll see why

I need to pray.

Come live in my home

for a week or two

and then remember

I am just like you.

I didn’t ask for the things I was given

I didn’t choose this road I have taken

Walk a mile with me hand in hand

Then perhaps you will understand.

I’m not really complaining

about the stress in my life,

I know that we all have

some toil and some strife.

But walk with me, when you think

I am wrong, walk with me

and you’ll start to belong.

Embrace my sorrows,

like they are your own,

And then you will know me

And see I have grown.

The journey I take

is different from yours

My life took one of those

unexpected detours,

But this road that I travel

is not really so long,

If the people who watch me

will join in my song.

Listen to my footsteps

and watch how I dance

And then you will know me

and give me a chance.

Take heart and remember

It can happen to you,

who knows where my pathway

will cross over to you?

So speak to me softly

if you can’t understand

Remember I once stood

right there where you stand.

And walk with me gently

when the day is at end.

And then I will know

I can call you my friend.

~Author unknown

*****

THE EMPTY CHAIR

Every Holiday, we're greeted

By that ever empty chair.

Your place is always plated

In hopes that You are there.

Some say, You weren't invited,

But this day is just for You,

With prayers of thanks and blessings

And this invitation, Oh! So true.

A table sat for nine

When only eight are there

For this day in our lives,

With You, we want to share.

And when we laugh, or eat, or drink,

Each moment shared again;

Then I know that You have joined us

And each time.... I say Amen.

~Carolyn Ford Witt

*****

Thanksgiving Day Go Away

Today is Thanksgiving what words can I say

Since my loved one was taken away

The anger,the grief the sorrow I feel

In my mind this is not real

We used to celebrate with family and friends

Now we are like the plague and avoided again

Nothing I did could change what I went through

All the torment I suffer all because I miss you

So as Thanksgiving begins on this day

I have no one to share for they went away

My day is empty and feel nothing but pain

Wishing you were here with me once again

So Thanksgiving to me is just another day

As I feel empty with no words left to say

Remember the good times and not the bad

For then in your heart (we) will be glad

I hope in time (we) will find peace and love

Sent by an Angel from God Above.

~Robert Walters Sr.

*****

Unless You Have Walked In My Shoes

Please don't tell me to be strong

To be wise and stand up tall

Please don't urge me to move on

Don't treat me as if I am a pawn.

I'm not heartless, callous and cold;

I'm not brave nor very bold

I'm not as tough as I need to be

So understand, that's just not me!

It's not advice I seek from you

Just stand by me; let me work it through

And though I fight daily to stay alive

With family and friends I will survive.

Don't be so eager to be my judge

Unless you have walked in my shoes!

And though I don't hold a grudge

I'm still battered and bruised.

~by "Grieving Mothers"

*****

First Thanksgiving

The thought of being thankful

fills my heart with dread.

They’ll all be feigning gladness,

not a word about her said.

These heavy shrouds of blackness

enveloping my soul,

pervasive, throat-catching

writhe in me, and coil.

I must, I must acknowledge,

just express her name,

so all sitting at the table,

know I’m thankful that she came.

Though she’s gone from us forever

and we mourn to see her face,

not one minute of her living,

would her death ever replace.

So I stop the cheerful gathering,

though my voice quivers, quakes,

make a toast to all her living.

That small tribute’s all it takes.

~Genesse Bourdeau Gentry

TCF, Marin/San Francisco, CA

*****

Walk A Mile In My Shoes

I've been to hell and back on a rocky path of shards

falling along the way

I've played in fenced grassy yards

on a sunny day

I know what its like to win

I know what its like to lose

if you want to go to places I've been

walk a mile in my shoes

I've been accepted applauded respected by people along the way

I've been stepped on kicked beat rained on till I was wet on a cloudy day

sometimes its not what you choose

if you don't believe me

walk a mile in my shoes

I've been beat down thrown around

had my days of blues

I've been helped praised let down raised

by people with different views

if you want to see what its like

to be me

walk a mile in my shoes

just when I had enough times were too rough

sick of bad news

leaving town looking down

lost all I could lose

I noticed . . .

I was walking in your shoes

~Ernest Clary

*****

‎"Losing our child/children did not guarantee us that we would receive compassion and understanding from others. It did not guarantee us that family and friends would understand our pain, our heartbreak, our actions, our choices. It did not guarantee us that we would receive no more trial in our lives. Quite the opposite...we lose family and friends, we have been told to "get over it" "move on" to stop crying....well, one thing it does guarantee us is that we will meet the people we are supposed to meet, the ones who care, the ones who understand and I am thankful for those who have held my hand through this nightmare of a journey through grief for the past 7 1/2 years. Love you ALL!! ♥ Adam ♥

~by Grieving Mother, M. H.

*****

See everybody's got their own problems that they are going through.

I take it day by day, it's the only thing that I can do.

So I live for me as you live for you

But you can't be me...

unless you walk in my shoes.

Pictures, thanks to Grieving Mothers