There'll be no dark valley

You see allegory everywhere when the world is cloaked in the new mystery again, as things you thought were true crash down about you and new structure is going up and everything is hazy because of injury and loss and grief and pain.  When cancer is back again, bigger each time, threatening; when going to the bathroom at night feels like a scene from "Where the Wild Things Are" (let the rumpus begin); when your heart flip-flops afresh to a mechanical beat like a bad '80's house jam; when you can't squeeze your children or cook your meals or pack your bags for a trip you want to go on/don't want to embark on.  Then daisies in harsh sidelight on your sacred marriage bed are haunted, and you think about the curse and evil, and God and good, and discipline and persecution.  You see the vivid yellow and you see the yellow shadow, and you see the black holes of the hand-built bed your brother made you and they feel like eyes that have been watching and judging and see you now and know you know.  The oak is something solid to die on when head hits as heart stops.

And then your realize the daisies are fake, and the milk bottle is just an old treasure, and the bed is a place of comfort.  And go to get your camera anyway.  You realize that the allegory, and the persecution, and the constant debate between good and evil that is like two vivid voices in your head right now...it's all just distraction.  Put hand back to plow.  Quit looking so deep and find a way to healing.  Daisies in harsh sidelight will be gold streets soon enough.  Stomp down the fear that comes creeping, and turn on the nightlight in your bathrooms so you don't kill yourself on a toilet or a sink or something.  Sit on your bed for 3 minutes before you stand up, and recite the 23rd Psalm in your head to keep the time.  Find a new rhythm and learn the mechanical ones, and rest in knowing that someday, there'll be no allegory and no mystery and no figuring anything out.  Someday it will all be revealed.

There'll be no dark valley when Jesus comes,
There'll be no dark valley when Jesus comes,
There'll be no dark valley when Jesus comes,
To gather His loved ones home.

There'll be no more sorrow when Jesus comes,
There'll be no more sorrow when Jesus comes,
But a glorious morrow when Jesus comes
To gather His loved ones home.

There'll be no more weeping when Jesus comes,
There'll be no more weeping when Jesus comes,
But a blessed reaping when Jesus comes
To gather His loved ones home.

~There'll Be No Dark Valley, William Orcutt Cushing, 1823-1902 ~

My mistake

I re-read my Haiti post and went running for C.S. Lewis' Problem of Pain, a permanent fixture in my bedside book pile since cancer struck in mid 2008. I found the quote I was looking for, and feel humbly corrected. I love it when God whispers truth in your soul, and you are able to track down something that describes what was just an internal sense.

"Those who would like the God of scripture to be more purely ethical do not know what they ask."

My soul breathes deep

Whew. A deep breath for the soul, and the body. Cancer de-saturates life. Everything gets a little pale as you struggle through the current of ongoing trials. And then God is merciful, and your soul breathes in deep and expands, and you remember how colorful and vibrant life really is. What a gift it is.

I read this verse in Jeremiah yesterday, and it echoes the constant cry of my heart since June 2008. When I really look deep into my heart, I see the blackness there, the many ways I've hurt others, or disappointed them, or gone back on my word; the selfishness and anger and disinterest and pride that eats out from the center. I know God sees it, even clearer through Holy eyes. Correct me, O Lord, but in justice; not in your anger lest you bring me to nothing. (Jeremiah 10:24)

He corrects me - but in justice. Not in His anger. I am not brought to nothing. I am here, vacationing in Wisconsin Dells with some of my best friends in the world. I breathed in as much air as my lungs could hold just in case I drowned on a thrilling ride called "The Toilet Plunge". Hilarious that I begged more that my life be spared on that ride than before I enter surgery! I really thought it was in danger - in the next few seconds! Luckily, they hire some decent engineers when they decide to flush people down gigantic toilets. Then a lovely dinner, delivered by train, with Thomas the Tank Engine on the big screen. The first time in months I haven't had to wrestle my son to keep him in his seat for an entire meal. And finally, an icy wind blowing Ali and I across a ski hill on our snowboards. Discovering that snowboarding is truly "like riding a bike" was priceless. So much in my life has changed, it makes me ever more thankful when I discover something that hasn't. I still love the crunch and swoosh of the snow away from my board as I glide through high-speed S-curves all the way down the hill. The thrill of teaching someone to love it is just the same, too.

What a wonderful week! God is so good to me.

Just between the two of us

My anonymous comments have been increasing again of late, all of them with criticism to offer regarding my choices to continue my education and have a large family at the same time. Please read my remarks on this subject and other difficult subjects from 2009, and know that no anonymous comments left without contact information or a name at the end will be posted to my blog.

http://turquoisegates.blogspot.com/2009/08/how-to-respond.html

May I point out a great passage in Matthew 18, which deals with the brother who sins against you? It tells exactly how to approach another Christian if you feel their ways are in error, and leaves no room for unsigned anonymous comments. I read each of the comments submitted, and many cut to the core. My purpose in writing this blog is to be an example of the realities of Christian faith, the daily working out of my faith, the daily small steps in sanctification, the trials, missteps, and sins that make me a real person, wife, mother, sister, student - a real person in real need of God's saving grace - not the Sainted Cancer Survivor some imagine. Please choose your words wisely, with prayer and kindness and grace. I take them deeply to heart, and wish there were a way I could interact with you, Anonymous Reader, so that I could explain myself and perhaps tell you how deeply your words hurt.

If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’ If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector. (Matthew 18:15-17)