No More Hanging Around

Once upon a time there was a frog named Horace.  He was an amiable and clever fellow who deeply enjoyed a game of Pinochle.  One day he went to visit my girlfriend.  He climbed the door and knocked softly.  My friend opened the door, “Hello?” she chimed.  She saw no one.  “Hello!” Horace replied politely, for he was a polite fellow.  “Would you like to play a game…”  The sentence didn’t end as the words were pushed from his body. 

There was a moment of shattering force then darkness…

Light.  Unspeakable joy and a face.  “Horace,” said the voice as the face came into view.  “Welcome home dear one.”  The voice was music, resonating with majesty. Even the webbing of Horace’s feet vibrated as every cell of his being rejoiced.  “Creator!” Horace gasped with delight.  “What happened? Where am I?” 

“Come Horace” the creator smiled, “I will tell your family you are safe.”

**********

I first encountered the remains of dear Horace last spring.  I don’t recall if I was responsible for picking up, dropping off, or barging in when we met in the doorway.  What sticks in my memory was the shocked looks on the twins faces as they pointed out their near invader.

I made a bit of a fuss about him.  I was mildly traumatized.  My closest friends will tell you I’m too sensitive: a completely accurate assessment.  I possess an abiding sympathy for the looser.  If I were a frog, I would be Horace.     

Truthfully, I made a scene every time I saw him.  The family was squeamish and reluctant to scrape him off the door frame.  As time progressed the situation was viewed with humor and like many things, passed from funny to forgotten. For this reason Horace hung on that blasted door hinge for the better part of the year. 

Astonishing how time flies, as life occurs at a relentless 60 seconds per minute.  This constant carries a deceptive quality.  Childhood seems to evaporate though it lasts over a decade. The amount of time it can take a family to process an unfortunate event is daunting. Trauma has a way of robbing momentum and for many it can take ages for life to become normal again.  An affair, an accident, or an attack can transpire in minutes yet the consequences can last for generations.

I was thinking how long it can take a family to bury their pain.  I am not speaking about the death of a loved one; those situations change a life forever. But what happens when you need to recover from less permanent things?  A bad business decision…a life changing surgery…a poor choice, these can haunt the doorways of our homes for years.  Families don’t always know how to process the ordeal and to make things worse, the path to recovery is unclear. The crisis passes into history, attracting infrequent attention yet lingering in our collective memory. Something unpleasant that hangs in the corner.  Our neighbors know the outline of our misfortune but are unable to figure out how to help without straining the cords of relationship. 

It is hard and ever so painful.

As I write, spring is arriving in my world.  I stopped at my girlfriend's the other day and admired the snow drops beneath her Japanese maple.  They looked elegant, their white heads bowed in prayer.  The daphne at another's home smells divine and at Horace’s house the purple crocus made their appearance this week.  Creation is being renewed and it looks lovely.

Thoughts of Horace lead me here this week my friend.  Strange musings over the casing of a paper thin amphibian.  I have been thinking and praying.  As spring unfolds I hope you might have the courage to do some spring cleaning. To get on your knees and ask Jesus to send you his grace once more.  The grace Jesus gave you to get through your crisis is enough to lift away all skeletons and stains.  Ask the creator to visit your home again with His grace. Grab an unresolved issue that resides in the corner of your mind and discuss it with a loved one.  Confess the brokenness and share your burden.  

I pray your family will be filled with compassion, love and forgiveness as you seek to move on from life's trials.  God is able to cause you to overcome completely.  You might never be the same, but Jesus can change you for the better.  I pray your bruises would heal and that spring rains would refresh your very heart and soul. 

“Come, let us return to the LORD;

for he has torn us, that he may heal us;

he has struck us down, and he will bind us up.

After two days he will revive us;

on the third day he will raise us up,

that we may live before him.

Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD;

his going out is sure as the dawn;

he will come to us as the showers,

as the spring rains that water the earth.”

Hosea 6:1-3

You are precious to Him.

xoxKaren   

Words Fail Me

Hello Friend,

I’m sorry I didn’t return your text, three days at that speech and debate tournament had me lazing about the flat in my pajamas unwilling to communicate with anyone. 

Deeply ironic.

It was great fun though, you have to come to the next one.  It is an amazing subculture.  All the students dressed in their Sunday best, you would hardly believe they are the slouchy creatures that frequent your living room.  They clean up well.

The things they do are unbelievable.  Countless hours of preparation leading to speeches created on the fly, presentations on the classics and dramatic interpretations.  Participants stand in front of an audience, presenting their hearts and minds for critique.  It is ridiculously brave.  Secretly, I used to worry they were a freakish Christian army of Alex P. Keaton’s sent from Family Ties to affect the future. Then I discovered it isn’t like that at all, these kids don’t carry briefcases, they have rolling file cabinets. 

It’s intense though, to have an entire block of time set aside to analyze one’s communication abilities.  Give a person the license to critique you and you will be surprised by the comments you receive.  Then analyze those critical remarks and see if you can control your tongue.  I guarantee that defensive, sarcastic words will launch themselves out of your mouth with a passion that will surprise you.  Being critiqued is hard, attacking a critic is easy.

My girls have taken their share of unkind words disguised as a critique. In every crowd there seems to be one person who forgoes the honour of teaching in favour of scoring points off a kids ego’s by being punitive.  Consequently, my family had to develop a framework of discernment regarding the language of critique.   In fact, every aspect of our own discourse had to be examined.  It has been a struggle. 

Scripture has a great deal to say about our speech.*   Every verse I read makes me wish I came with a mute button.  That way I could say what I want but not be heard. 

Brutal honesty.  That is what a weekend of sleep deprivation gets you.     

There are so many scriptures to convict me and so little time:

He who despises his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding keeps silent. He who goes about as a talebearer reveals secrets, but he who is trustworthy conceals a matter. Prov 11:12-13

The one who guards his mouth preserves his life; the one who opens wide his lips comes to ruin.  Prov 13:3

He who guards his mouth and his tongue, Guards his soul from troubles. Prov 21:23

He who restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding. Even a fool, when he keeps silent, is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is considered prudent. Prov 17:27-28

Feeling uncomfortable yet?  Need more?  Look online, you will find a plethora of scripture lists that will have you begging for mercy.  This one strikes fear in my soul,

A Tree Is Known by Its Fruit

33 “Either make the tree good and its fruit good, or make the tree bad and its fruit bad, for the tree is known by its fruit. 34 You brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. 35 The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. 36 I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, 37 for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.” Matt 12:33-37

In this age of communication, words are everywhere.  Encrypted radio signals just brushed by your nose as you read this.  Texts, articles, internet, phones, people, books…… we are drowning.  My reflection this week was at some point in time, my heart will reach its finish line.  It will contract and release with a final sigh.  My life time of words will be examined by my creator.  No erase history or delete button will correct the staggering amount of twaddle and wickedness my tongue has loosed.  Only Jesus will be able to clean that slate.

So I’m praying my friend.  That our speech might become beautiful.  That it  might become worthy of regarding.  In this age of rash words and unkind language, we might have something lovely to say. 

Miss you so much and thinking of you this week.

Xox Karen   

* That sentence pleases me.

p.s.  This fine specimen of a rolling cart comes from Amazon.