Forgiveness - Part Deux

Writing about Forgiveness and actually doing are two different beasts. Seems I've been quite content to let bitterness consume me from within. Surrounded by suggestion... a sermon about offering forgiveness before too late. Then, darling husband asks almost daily if I've called my Dad. I read a fabulous book on what it's like to live in another person's shoes which makes me consider how little I know about his life, his fears. Then, this morning's devotional reads 'instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow' (2 Corinthians 2: 7). Oftentimes slow on the uptake, but lately it's felt like a battering ram!

Couldn't I just write a letter? Written words flow more smoothly. Can't it wait til a personal visit? No, Lisa...call today. Call right now. That heavy soul-knocking urge to call weakens my resolve and I reach for the phone. Not in my favorites list, I have to search for his name. What will I say? I know I can't get thru much without breaking down. Ring Ring...maybe he's still asleep...he's known to sleep til noon. Instead, I get a sleepy hello. Uggg. Ok, I'm being obedient...Good morning.

Those first awkward steps of conversation aren't pretty....clumsily trudging thru...I know the meaty parts are coming... bursting to spill. That deafening silence and then I hear myself say the words I've withheld for years.

Can you forgive me?  I've been angry at you for how things went down with Mom.

Can you forgive me?  I was angry because I would have done things so differently. I was completely unaware of your perspective....what it was like living in your shoes.

I don't know how he'll process my call...choppy with tears and gulps for air. Not sure if he feels confusion or clarity. Feeling the same way, myself. There's so much more to purge. Baby steps.

 

 

Clumsy Words

These weeks have been a blur...busy mind and body...delivering meals to sick and traveling friends, celebrating a dear friend's book release, a monumental concert for daughter and an indulgent evening with a friend, meetings, volunteer hours, chauffeuring, cooking, cleaning. Nothing more or less ordinary than any other Mom. But this week, feeling that guilty sadness that summer is winding down, and many of my lofty summer plans did not materialize. Looking for precious windows of time in these final 8 days to squeeze in memories.

Slowing the mind as I set the list aside and listened to daughter's fears and dreams for her upcoming

school year. Enjoying a marathon of Harry Potter with her before she's off and running again. Helping me understand the importance of horcrux items and Patronus symbols. Deep and heady thoughts from a Dumbledore quote, “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it.” Words I strive to represent...intentionally placed words of concern, praise, correction. Often, I miss the mark. Children, husband, perhaps friends, disappointed and confused. Seems to be an ever present exercise as I savored a far-away friend this weekend as she voiced her excitement over a new move and the heart saddness over the sudden loss of a dear pet. Learning to listen and not stumble over clumsy words and canned thoughts. Home again, somehow forgetting the lesson and fruitless words tumble out. Saying one thing, but another meaning heard. Are surrounding ears that fragile or are my words that graceless? Written, they come silky...but something between the brain, ears, and tongue tangles intention.

Since not speaking is an ineffective answer, my only answer is prayer. Praying to soften my words, letting them lay softly on loved one's ears. Praying to cushion my own ears to hear love always. Praying my words have that power to remedy and not inflict injury.