Posts tagged “pain

Keeping It Vertical

Posted on 03/12/2015

Cross-posted from Dee’s Cache.

I woke up this morning with several thoughts on the purpose of my life, all because of a video I watched on the life of this talented 9-year-old girl showing off her skills in basketball and math. I got to thinking about what I was like as a nine-year-old and was filled with grief. As I iron my shirt and pants, my mind began to question as it does sometimes when I can’t think of parts of my childhood without grimacing. I begin to wonder why I experienced hurt before the age of ten, fear and resentment in my preteens, and the loss of one of my first friends and my immediate younger brother on my sixteenth year. Then I thought about people who experienced what I did and had a rougher time overcoming it. I thought about people who experienced far worse and were not able to survive it. I thought about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t. And I realized the difference was God.

When I hear of people who were once in the faith (commitment and relationship with God and Jesus Christ) lose that faith due to extenuating circumstances, I am equally compassionate and disappointed. Compassionate in the sense that I understand the struggle. Before, I held such a strong resentment in my heart that it was hard for people, even family, to understand me. I didn’t question God’s existence; I just questioned his consideration and love for me. How could He love me if things like this happened? It took the death of my brother Tonbara to shake me out of it. Imagine! To think that having one of my best friends and immediate brother die before me, could point me to the grace of God is something one could say sounds far-fetched, silly… but it happened to me. It made me acknowledge the sovereignty of God and how very real He was in every aspect of life.

So I put on my socks and shake my head in awe, thinking of the saints like Job and Paul. They had every reason to resent their circumstances. Job lost EVERYTHING, and what he had left encouraged him to “curse God and die.” He could’ve and no human on the face of this earth would blame him (except maybe his ridiculous excuses for friends). But even in his despair, even when he complained and wondered about his condition, he never once cursed God because he kept his thoughts vertical.

What do I mean by vertical? It’s essentially looking outside oneself and seeing God in the midst of it. For example, with his scathing boils and his nonsense companions provoking more hurt on him, Job praised God’s power and sovereignty while imploring God to reveal the reason for his hurt and suffering. He asked why but didn’t allow a spirit of doubt in the Creator. In the same way, Paul was in chains for Christ, and even though he suffered hardships, he counted it as great gain… even to the point of death. Even the man after God’s own heart, David, suffered countless hardships, some manufactured from his own foolishness, He didn’t blame God for what happened to him.

As I’m putting on my watch and bracelets, I think about my life and wonder how to keep my mind vertical rather than horizontal, horizontal in the sense that I allow self-pity and resentment to keep me from looking up. I think about the delays and “denials” currently and in the past and marvel at how easily it is to be discouraged or disillusioned about God’s purpose. How can I encourage someone when I’m not encouraged?

Then I think about Job and Paul once again. If they had gone through all of that and lost hope, people like me wouldn’t be encouraged by their testimony when we’re going through tough times. So by keeping their thoughts vertical and having a testimony of peace and joy in spite of their circumstances, I have hope in mine.

So then this prayer came to mind:

“Lord, I thank you for your Sovereignty and your unconditional love for me. I thank you that you thought of me when you sent your Son Jesus to die on the cross for me. I thank you that I am adopted into your family as a child of God, a daughter of the King. I know that the plans you have for me are good, to give me a future and a hope. When I think of the past, I often wonder if that was part of your plan. When I think of the present, I’m anxious about whether this is also part of your plan and if I’m walking in the purpose you have for me. But I know that every good and perfect gift comes from you. So I ask that you help me to allow your healing blood to soothe away the pain of the past. I thank you for restoring me to yourself, whole and redeemed by the blood of Jesus. I pray that I will be made whole in my heart and mind according to your will.

With my present circumstance, if it was because of my foolishness as David, I pray that you lead me out of it with a testimony to encourage someone in the future. However, if this present circumstance is according to your will, please give me the grace and joy that only comes from you to strengthen me on the journey. Help me to keep my mind focused on you in this season, knowing that surely your goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life… and that you will never leave nor forsake me through it all. In your Son’s name I pray. Amen.”

By the time I put on my jacket and grab my keys, I’m smiling. I want a life where my thoughts align me to the will of God; vertical thinking. So I surrender my past hurts and present worries to God, He knows them all, and He gives me peace because I know that He’s heard me and will accomplish the good work He’s begun in me.

So friends, be encouraged and keep your mind vertical. God exists and he’s working things out for your good because He loves you.

Samina’s Chance: Chapter 36

Posted on 08/05/2015

sunset

“Ow!” Ezekiel grimaced, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring at him. Beulah had his mouth pressed between her chubby fingers, pulling them to a painful stretch. “Bumblebee, that hurts.”

Beulah giggled and released his mouth. She settled on his lap and curled against his chest. Laide sat on his other side, face behind a comic book, ignoring everyone.

From her side of the couch, Sheena clucked disapprovingly. “Serves you right.”

Rubbing his sore lips, Ezekiel frowned. “That’s not very nice.”

“What’s not nice is ignoring your mother and smiling a goof while doing it.” She rolled a pair of pink frilly socks, depositing it into a laundry basket at her feet. “Honestly, Zeke, what’s going on? You’ve been distracted all week. Are you dating perhaps?”

Ezekiel’s eyes widened at the suspicious look on Sheena’s face.

“What’s dating?” Beulah peered up at her father.

Laide lowered the book, eyes on Ezekiel.

“Uh…” Ezekiel cleared his throat and glanced around the room. “Where’s Dad?”

Sheena arched a brow and then her expression darkened. “Out… Stop deflecting. Are you dating?”

Ezekiel frowned in concern. His father was barely at home these days. “Shouldn’t you be with him? He’s probably still grieving over Aunt Neve.”

Sheena rolled her eyes. “Zeke, your father is fine. Are you dating?”

“Papa, are you?” Laide asked.

Both Sheena and Ezekiel turned to look at her. Ezekiel’s heart skipped a beat and any fumbling attempt to deflect fell away at the wariness etched on Laide’s face.

“Is it Aunt Sammie?” Laide’s narrowed gaze swept over his face.

Beulah wriggled in his arms. “Aunty Sammie!”

Heat shot through Ezekiel, thinking back to Samina’s dazed expression when he kissed her and the soft warmth of her body against his. “Uh…”

Sheena gasped, pulling his attention to her face. Disbelief widened her eyes and parted her mouth. “Our Sammie?” She held a hand to her chest. “Really?!”

Ezekiel grimaced at the incredulity resonating. “Is it that hard to imagine?” And as Sheena moved closer and grabbed his hand, Ezekiel blinked at the tears swimming in her eyes. “Mom…”

She gripped his fingers tight. “You’re serious? You’re not pulling my leg?”

Ezekiel smiled, pleased that joy now danced in her tear-filled eyes.

Beulah giggled. “Silly Gramma.” She slid onto Sheena’s lap and wiped at her eyes. “Why are you crying? Don’t you like Aunty Sammy?”

“I do, Bumblebee… Gramma’s just happy.” Laughing softly, Sheena pulled Beulah close. Then her smile waned a little. “Does Deidre know?”

His own smile froze, imagining Samina’s mother. Then he remembered her sage words in the church parking lot, his smile returning full force. “Well, she did encourage me to pursue Sam.”

Sheena’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “She did what?!”

“What did you just say?”

Samina looked down, fingers bunching the silk material of her jacket.

Karen dropped to the couch unceremoniously. “This is a joke, right Sammie?” Disbelief clouded her eyes. “You did go on a vacation right?”

Samina could only swallow at the hardened lump in her throat. This was why she disclose details of her surgery or the tumor in the first place; they couldn’t handle bad news very well. She berated herself for leaving her phone at home, or at least for not protecting it with a password.

Groaning, Karen covered her face.

“Sam,” Obadiah finally spoke up, his hooded gaze scanning her face. “You’re… sick?”

Her heart twisted at the uncharacteristic lilt in his baritone. Samina managed a weak smile. “Not anymore,” she rushed in. “The surgery was success—”

“Surgery!” Karen snapped, eyes flashing. “You had surgery by yourself and didn’t tell anyone! How could you do…” she inhaled a harsh breath and with a groan, she covered her face.

Her lips quirked derisively. “Well, it’s not like you could’ve the surgery with me so—“

“Are you kidding me, Sam?” Obadiah scowled darkly.

Samina winced and looked away, smarting from his sharp reprimand. Her jaw tightened, fingers curled into her palms, forming fists at her side.

Even if she could’ve been more forthcoming about the surgery but what good would their panic and worries do for her? And why did it seem like they were mad about more than just her neglect of disclosure? Was it that they blamed her for having the tumor in the first place?

Choking on a sob, Samina turned and fled to her room, slamming the door behind their silence. Pressed against the door, Samina clutched her mouth to keep from crying aloud.

Instead of reveling in Ezekiel’s amorous pursuit, she felt sorry and increasing guilt over Topher’s disappointment. Instead of receiving understanding and comfort from her siblings, they harshly condemned her for keeping the surgery a secret. Instead of being content and successful at the age of 30, she was a social failure with squashed dreams and a debilitating condition that could rob her of a chance at being a mother.

Samina slid to the floor, too tired to hold herself up or hold it in. The sobs pressed against her palm, the tears wetting her hands and she screamed in her mouth. Nothing, absolutely nothing was going her way and she was tired of it. So tired.

Slumped over the marbled counter surface, Topher watched the amber-colored liquid swirl in his glass, soft jazz playing in the background. He lifted the crystal glass to his lips and threw back the liquid, grimacing as it hit the back of his throat.

A hand fell on his shoulder and he slanted his eyes to find a solemn-faced Jaxson standing at his side. Topher grunted and faced the front. “Nadine told you I was here?”

Jaxson slid into the stool beside him. “She’s worried.” He eyed Topher’s glass and waved the scrawny, blond-haired bartender over. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He pulled out his wallet and placed it on the counter.

The young bartender eyed both men warily. “Just go to a vending machine already.” He sneered in disgust but pulled out a crystal glass and a can of ginger-ale.

Spotting the three empty cans of ginger ale behind the man’s elbow, Jaxson offered him a wry smile and slung an arm around Topher’s hulking shoulder. “Can’t you see his heart’s broken? Have some pity.”

The bartender rolled his eyes but poured Jaxson a glass of the sparkling ginger ale. Jaxson raised a brow as the bartender squirted pure lemon juice inside and nodded in approval.

Topher scoffed, slugging down the rest of his drink. He gargled it deep in his throat before swallowing. Then he nudged the empty cup to the bartender. “Another.”

Jaxson shook his head but watched the bartender fill up Topher’s glass. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? You’ll feel like crap in the morning.” He sniffed his drink and grimaced. An ulcer two nights before his wedding didn’t seem like a good idea.

“Leave me alone.” Topher rolled off Jaxson’s hand from his shoulder. “Go back to your wonderful life and let me wallow in peace,” he drawled, tossing the drink back.

Jaxson heaved a sigh and took a sip of his drink. He cringed, lowering the glass to the counter. Then he eyed his friend draped over the counter, sobering instantly. Nadine didn’t know all the details but informed him that Topher was in a foul mood after his date with Samina. With a grave tone, she cautioned him to be careful with Topher’s sensitivity, that he was very serious about Samina.

Judging from the scowl darkening Topher’s face, and having only witnessed it one other time in college, Jaxson knew the date hadn’t gone so well.

“Another.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” The bartender barked, though he sloshed the liquid into the cup.

“Hey!” Topher slanted the bartender a glowering stare. “Be careful using that name…” He gripped the cup and with his glare unwavering, he tossed the drink back.

The bartender blinked at him, his scrawny shoulders stiffened in alarm.

Jaxson couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. If Topher didn’t look half drunk in self-pity, it would’ve been a grave matter. His friend had a quick temper; cultivated by Nadine’s upbringing but softened by his relationship with God which he defended as fiercely as he did his aging aunt.

He slapped a hand over Topher’s stiff back and gave the astonished bartender a grin. “Relax, Toph. You’re scaring people.”

Topher grunted, lowering his gaze.

The bartender snuck away and Jaxson turned to his friend. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Topher echoed, his voice void of its usual brilliance and optimism.

Jaxson sobered. It was just like in college again, watching Topher’s face darken with the news of his aunt falling sick for the first time. It’d shook Topher to the core; Nadine was the only family he had. Blessed with four annoying older sisters and doting parents, Jaxson couldn’t imagine the pain and fear that his best friend went through. From his long friendship with Topher, he knew Topher feared being alone and abandoned. Staring at the 34-year-old Topher now, Jaxson felt that same feeling as he had ten years ago.

Topher rubbed at his face, frustration emanating from him. “I don’t know what happened… All I know is I’m too late.” He laughed bitterly, the sound stealing Jaxson’s breath. “Always too late.”

<<Chapter 35 || Chapter 37>>

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