Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I finally knocked
I went to bed so utterly exhausted last night, I was probably sound asleep by 7:00 PM. The natural result? I'm awake at 3:00 AM. So I am here. Perusing my daughter's words. And finding ones I didn't know she'd written. She was longing for me in the middle of the night, and sure Sara and Shane must, as well. I don't know the answer to that. I've just begun (I can say 'just begun' because this is recent in a lifetime that has expanded more than 48 years, although it began in September) to fight, to see the need to act on my intense longings. Let me explain. I have screamed inside, wept buckets and buckets, ground my teeth into near oblivion, eaten my way through years and years of painful longing...longing for things I've allowed others to take from me. It is as if I had a yard sale, stating, "Here they are, the valuable things, take them!" These 'things' aren't things at all. They are people. People I love and need with such intensity that I've screamed and wept inside and simply ASSUMED that this would be conveyed. I mean...can't the world see my pain? Can't the universe see and feel it? Can't the sheer magnitude of it be felt by Christine, Shane, and Sara, so that simply by feeling this immense pain, expending these fountains of tears, wearing away the enamel on my teeth, flooding my system with harmful calories...can't all of this just be felt and understood and KNOWN by them? As if by osmosis or something? WELL, OF COURSE NOT! The fact is, I've spent this time aching without conveying, without ACTING!!!!! So I have begun to take action. Guess what? I took an action. And got what I needed. Christine, you are here, in my heart. Not just a whisper or promise of someone, but a real living adult and beautiful woman...and when I knocked, you opened the door. My groanings unuttered were answered. I'm not done. I won't be done until Jehovah says I'm done. And in the meantime, I will keep working toward my goal. I gave birth 3 times. I loved 3 people without reservation or expectation. They don't exist without me. I'm no creator. But these individuals are on the planet because I gave birth. I need and want you, Shane Michael DeMoss, Sara Elizabeth DeMoss, and one day, perhaps, you'll know, as your sister does, how much, and you will open the door when I knock.
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I finally read this...guess I was maybe longing in the middle of the night, again...Oh, what will He do with our hearts through all this? How fragile and yet how brave you were and I believe will continue to be. I was recounting our first meeting to a friend today, remembering the nervousness we both felt and saw on each other's faces. I remember and miss your hands.
ReplyDeletelittle one, believe it or not, I sometimes find myself without expression...just sheer sensation when I read your words. Someone who has had much influence in my life taught me 'hands are for loving, not for hurting'. She was teaching me to use some small item such as an ace comb or small wooden spoon if needed for discipline so that my little ones would know my hands always bestowed love. She would find it amazing, even shocking, no doubt, to know how long and well I have carried her lesson to me. your words...sweet soothing succor they give me, Christine, you are so gentle. Do not get me wrong, I assume no role of saint for you. I don't believe in such, and none of us are perfect. I just am awash in the balmy ocean airness of your expressions to me. May Jehovah never take them nor you from me...for truly, Christine, only he could, and he would not.
ReplyDeleteI'll be waiting for the moments you find.