So…I am supposed to begin this journey with a very godly description…"I am."
Oh…I am so much more aware of all that I am not!
Whoa!!! I am to define and recognize and actually like and reveal the "I am?"
Maybe….I am unable.
My teddy bear has been lost and stolen and ripped up and broken and
thrown out and thrown up on, and spit on, and split up, and kicked and mocked
and left all alone…
each time to somehow try to get cleaned up, and back together again.
But teddy bears and terminator robots have nothing in common.
And there are no kings' horses or men…and no one summoned them anyway…and…
who would try such a vain task?
For even Humpty Dumpty…who was foolish enough to sit on the wall.,.
even he of that storied fairy tale remained broken.
I have not broken any mold…but I have certainly not fit into one either.
That poor teddy bear isn't recognizable, and certainly doesn't conform
to the expected shape and appearance at all.
Yet…I have done a reasonably good job of patching up the 'wholes'…
and the rips and the tears.
Some stuffing is gone, and doesn't seem replaceable, but that's known only to me.
I am painfully aware of the inspection and the 'spotlight'.
I don't welcome revealing the broken-ness that will again flood me with the glare
that illuminates evidences of destruction that I have not successfully dealt with.
And then…when others see…even my efforts will drain away.
Woe is me! Now I'm to look at that bear within myself! I'm to find some good and ignore the glare!
Maybe….just maybe…there's something there that can endear itself…but that glare!
I know why my parents hid. And I know why blame was more purposeful than self-responsibility.
And I know why fear and anxiety become the norm, and peace is suspect, and acceptance mythical.
But I do not know what to do with that messy, mashed, miserable, mangled and macerated teddy who is
sometimes quite unbearable.
Perhaps…just perhaps…I'm to simply love that bear…and give it, and all care…to the God who is truly the
"I AM", I'm to follow.
Clara P