Archive | May 2015

You Meant to Harm Me

I love the story of Joseph in the book of Genesis. As best as I can recollect , he would have these dreams about his brothers some day bowing down to him and of course when he shared those dreams, his brothers became jealous. He was also his father’s favorite which upset his siblings. They decided to leave him out in the desert, in a pit, to either be eaten or just die.

Their plans didn’t work out so well and he was pulled out of the pit by a stranger, and was made a slave. But later he became a great leader due to his wisdom and forethought. When he was a slave he told the king of a dream that he had about a famine that was to happen in the future. The king took note and began to prepare.

Sure enough, there came a time when a famine  was in all of the land. His brothers had to come to him in order to survive. They did not realize it was him they were speaking to at first. It was that moment Joseph spoke of years ago, the one he dreamt of, where they would be bowing down to him.

Once the brothers realized who they were bowing to they became scared that he would repay them for the evil they did to him years before. What I love about this story is that there were times when scripture noted that Joseph had gone to his room to weep over this hurt but there he stood, able to give the payback. But he’s simply asked if he was God and gave them food.

What they meant for harm,  turned into good.   If Joseph hadn’t been sold into slavery and had not later been put into power many people would have starved to death.

Many years ago there were some people that meant to harm me as well. They were jealous, they lied, and ruined something that I had that could have been magnificent. I hurt and I wept. I didn’t understand why someone would be so cruel. But here I am 30 years later coming full circle and getting back everything I lost plus more.

There are still those out there,  trying to harm me,  making up your lies and trying to break apart what God always meant for good.  Keep on trying you jealous haters…and keep on failing too because I know from experience that good will always prevail.

The Wilted Flower

Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. Mark Twain

 

It was a beautiful, sunny Mothers-Day weekend and the perfect morning to put the top down on the convertible.  The decision was made to head out to the Charlotte Regional Farmers Market.  The drive was cathartic with the sun on my skin and wind blowing in my face.  Once I parked and started walking in, I could feel myself relax even more.  There is something about that place that makes me feel more connected to the earth.  I feel good about putting real food into my body instead of processed food.

The market was bustling with activity.  Everywhere you looked there were colorful fruits and vegetables and people walking with huge bouquets of flowers that they had gotten for a bargain.  I was content with taking my time, perusing everything that was available, knowing that once I finished there, I would be able to enjoy the rest of my day with my children.  I lamented just for a moment, about how I had tried calling my mom so many years on Mothers- Day, only to be half-heartedly greeted with her brief yet polite conversation.  It was always like talking to a stranger.

I observed a couple walking in front of me with their bags of goodies and I overheard the lady tell her friend “I was so disappointed in that flower.”  I thought to myself that it was an odd statement.  How could anyone be disappointed in a flower?  Even small children delight in dandelions as though they were the best thing ever.  I wondered; “Was the flower wilted?”  “Was the fragrance unappealing to her?”  “How could she not like a flower?”  I remembered back to when I spent a lot of time in my garden and how much pleasure each new bloom would give me.

As I ended my time at the market, I stopped to look at one last table of produce and an older gentleman wished me a happy Mothers-Day and asked if my mom was here.  I hesitated briefly, and my heart hurt just for a moment.  I mustered a smiled and said “Thank you, no my mom is not here but my children are.”  And with that I walked back to my car.  In my mind I compared myself with the flower that lady was so disappointed with.  I wondered why my mom was always so disappointed with me.  Was I wilted or damaged in her eyes?  Was I not what she expected or did I bloom more than she wanted me to?  With that, I put on my shades, lowered the top back down on the convertible and decided yes, sometimes I am wilted and I know there are parts of me that are damaged. I also decided that doesn’t make me any less important than a whole bouquet of beautiful roses or any less beautiful than a dandelion looks in the eyes of a child.

Like the Willow Tree

The willow tree, it bends and sways with each gust of wind, so why can’t we, when troubles, worry and anxiety hit us?

I have to be careful not to be so ridged when things happen to me that are, ultimately out of my control. Sometimes I have to be careful not to react before I think things through. Can I do anything to change this situation myself? What if this thing really does happen? What is the worst case scenario? Could something good actually come of this?

Does it do me any good to worry about it or should I see how things really shake out? I can use my mind to re-direct my fear-based thinking. The wind has been blowing a lot lately. Perhaps pain allows something new to be born. It makes us twist and turn and buck. It makes us feel hopeless…. if we let it.

The wind blows me to and fro
Sometimes soft and sometimes hard
If I stay ridged I just may break
In silence, I can see where my heart leans
It softens and tenderly surrenders to the pull
I shed tears if I need to
To empty it all out and start fresh
Letting go of my fears
And accepting the now
And burying my roots deep into knowing I am worthy
Go ahead wind
You no longer have control over my emotions
I will sway this way and that
But, like the willow tree, I will not break
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