Notes From A Broken Heart

I met the Evangelist at a Saturday, Noonday Prayer Service as she exhorted, " Say it. Say it. Say it! Until you see it! See it! See it!" Hmm. To an unabashed skeptic ( Moi ), the declaration startled me into an active listening frame.  The dictum caught my attention.  Pithy. Pregnant.  Memorable.   Sounds like it promises everything and nothing, I mused.   Empty of guarantees, but demanding who-knows-what kind of commitment? Nice-sounding, but helium-light.  Like a frilly dress without the proper petticoat. A reluctant attendee who felt Saturdays could best accommodate themselves to Saturday chores, grocery shopping, or even an unhurried lunch, I had committed to attend the Service, so I settled in to listen.  And got more than I expected! The Evangelist packed a wallop of a delivery. Rather,  she brought a powerful message, filled with punches! Evangelist understood the vagaries of life and had retained encyclopedic knowledge of  life and its myriad challenges.  She  surpris

"Who made the mountains, who made the trees Who made the rivers flow to the sea And who sends the rain when the earth is dry Somebody bigger than you and I." Actually, "Who's in charge here," predates the aforementioned questions.  I find much too often, that I've fallen in the trap of assuming too much---especially the critical, make-or-break, aspects for which I take ownership.  Yes, all of it. However, when it becomes clear that I am failing, or have failed, I fall into the abyss of blaming "Somebody bigger than you and I." Mind gymnastics produce insane behaviors.  Self-recrimination runs amok, yes, but I continue looking for an "out." I mean well. I use tried-and-true problem solving and decision-making methodology.  It's worked before; why not now? And on and on and on until I throw up my hands and retreat.  Then sulk and send a gilt-edged Pity Party Invitation addressed to moi .  While "repetition brings about retention,&q

"Thank You, Lord" slips through my lips as dawn breaks and I relax in my tastefully appointed living room,  waiting for Kai.  No, the room's elegance isn't mine to claim; dear "girl" friends did it all. I acknowledge them as "girl" friends, although not in the chronological sense.  It's their energy, enthusiasm, and elan toward life that account for the term.  Seriously, none of us has responded to that classification for a decade or two or three (I'll stop at three).  Friends they are, in the truest, purest sense; that describes them!  I simply admire their skills that took my bungling attempts at "interior design" and transformed a cluttered room into an elegant salon.  And, "Girlfriends" didn't stop there; no, they marched mission-focused through each remaining room and created the essence and beauty of grace. Bathrooms and all.   Surely, I never properly thanked them for demonstrating the consummate generosity o

I can hear my all-time favorite Troubadour-turned-Pastor crooning,  "Love and happiness (Hey hey hey) Make you do right Love''ll make you do wrong Make you come home early Make you stay out all night long..." and I respond with, "So will fear, Rev; so will fear The two have been so entwined in my life, all my life!" I can remember putting a bridle on anticipation and excitement because an irrational (aren't they all) fear threatened to snatch it away.  With no warning,  not even a lightning-bug glimpse, or premonition.  Just all of a sudden the love-of-my-life-and-heartbeat-of-my-heart  would disappear.   Just like that! Happiness absconded; pain replacing peace.  Lesson learned.  It pays not to be "too."  Too enthusiastic.  Too loving.  Too involved.  Too anticipatory.  Nothing lasts forever, a persistent voice whispers.  Watch your step, history warns.  Don't show your hand prematurely. You gotta know when to hold them, know when to fo