Listening for God

“I tried to discover, in the rumor of forests and waves, words that other men could not hear, and I pricked up my ears to listen to the revelation of their harmony.”
~ Gustave Flaubert

Fifteen years ago I went on a European tour with a group from church.  The tour began in Austria with it's stunning vistas and warm friendly residents.  On one of the first days, we took a ski lift down a steep mountain.  The site of the rich green landscape dotted with edelweiss was breath-taking!  And then, in the distance, we heard the sound of bells, all of different pitches and tones.  The sounds were random and yet rhythmic, beautiful and mysterious, hauntingly musical.  As the sound grew louder and we neared the bottom of the mountain, we began to see the source of the concert.  It was cows, many many cows, all with a different size bell around it's neck.  It was obvious that the different sizes of the bells helped to distinguish which cow had wandered off- they each had their own particular sound.  The simplicity of cows casually grazing at the foot of a mountain making music that resonated toward the heavens, found its way to my ears and finally took up residence within my heart.

"I don't want to think a place for you.
Speak to me from everywhere.
Your Gospel can be comprehended
without looking for its source."
~Rilke's Book of Hours; Love Poems to God

I'll Rise Up!

"And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again."
~ Rise Up lyrics by Andra Day

On Thursday, Jan. 7th, I received a telephone call from Becky at the Stark Co. Prosecutor's office to inform me that William Slabaugh was scheduled for release on May 15, 2016.  I asked where he would be living and whether or not a civil protection order would be in place.  After Becky did some checking she told me that I would need to file a request for a restraining order and should get it done in March so that it would be done before Bill was released or it would require appearing in court most likely with Bill present to process order.  Becky also recommended calling Kerry, the NE Ohio Victim Services representative as soon as possible for more information about his release.
On Friday, Jan. 8th, at 9:15am I left a message for Kerry.  It was then that I decided to check the Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Corrections inmate search website.  You can count on one hand the amount of times I have gone to that website since he was sentenced because I hate seeing his mug shot.  I hate looking into the cold dead eyes that stare out of the computer monitor.  Just seeing him makes my pulse race and makes it difficult to breathe.  I was surprised to see a new photo looking out at me.  He looks a little older, his glasses are lined bifocals (something that he would've never tolerated in the past) but still his hair is dark and, as always, not a hair out of place.  As I quickly scanned the page my eyes stopped abruptly on the Release Date: 12/30/15!  I was so stunned that I kept reading and re-reading that date thinking I must've misunderstood it but no matter how many times I looked at it, the date remained the same.  Bill was already released and no one called to inform me that he was out!  While I was in the hospital, I received a pamphlet for VINE (Victim Information Notification Everyday)- it is the statewide notification system for victims of crime.  I registered as soon as I was out of the hospital and was assured that I would ALWAYS be notified if Bill was released or even moved from one facility to another.  It didn't take long for me to experience the breakdown in the supposed infallible system.  I learned that he was moved from a high security prison to a minimum security institution by reading the return address on the envelope when he was filing a motion to court regarding spousal support that he deemed was overpaid.  Over these 11+ years I have registered with VINE multiple times, by mail, email and 3 years ago (when he filed a motion to commute his sentence.)  Every time I have been notified of anything, it was actually Stark Co. Prosecutor's office that has called to inform me of what they know (for which I'm grateful because that's how I know what questions to pursue) but they never have the whole story.  Carol, from Victims Services in Columbus registered me more than once 3 years ago until she said she could confirm that I was definitely registered so that I would be contacted before his release.  sigh.
I spent 6 hours and many phone calls to multiple people (all gracious and shocked that William Slabaugh could've been released without me being notified.)  I talked to the county Victims Service rep. (3 times), the state Victims Service rep. (3 times), Bill's parole officer, the warden's office in Richland Correctional Institution trying to find out where is Bill?!?  Time and time again, I was told, "We don't know where he is right now."  At 3:15pm, I got a return call from the state Victims Service rep. and was informed that Bill was released for Transitional Corrections (a half-way house) in Canton where he would reside until Jan. 29, 2016 when he will be eligible and most likely have an electronic monitor applied until May 15, 2016 when he is "officially released" on parole.

I spent the next 2 days, trying to find my footing.  Allowing myself to be angry, afraid, teary and any other emotion that needed to be felt at that time.  On Sunday, Bob and I watched an episode of American Idol that we had recorded.  Near the end, Melanie Tierce walked in with her acoustic guitar and her piercing blue eyes and began to sing...

"You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains...

And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again...

When the silence isn't quiet
And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to it's feet
And move mountains
Bring it to it's feet
And move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again...

All we need, all we need is hope...

I sobbed, literally, as I felt my Self rise up and I knew that I will rise up a thousand times again.

The Trajectory of Life

"...the trajectory of life is headed somewhere good, toward union. Trust the process and surrender to the urgings of life, gradually growing you up into fullness."
~Fr. Richard Rohr, Daily Meditation @ Center for Action and Contemplation

A dear friend recently gave me a little book by Anne Lamont called Small Victories- Spotting Improbable Moments of Grace.  I knew from the moment I laid eyes on that lovely little watery blue book that it was right up my alley and just what I needed- some victories, please!  There are so many nuggets in this little gem that I've taken to marking the best with hot pink tabs so they will be easy to find and re-read as needed.
One nugget that keeps swirling in my head is, "I was learning the secrets of life: that you could become the woman that you dared to dream of being, but to do so you were going to have to fall in love with your own crazy, ruined self."   Ha!  I have chewed on that statement and, at times, reveled in the thought that my crazy, ruined self  is lovable.  Not my put-together self nor my trying harder to be perfect self... it is my crazy, ruined self  that is lovable.  I guess I'll have to digest that one for a while. 

This day, I will trust the trajectory of this crazy life of mine and believe that it is headed somewhere good.  I will surrender to the urgings of life, that are gradually growing (me) up into fullness.  Amen

Reconciling the Ill-matched Threads

"She who reconciles the ill-matched threads
of her life, and weaves them gratefully
into a single cloth-
it's she who drives the loudmouths from the hall
and clears it for a different celebration.

where the one guest is you.
In the softness of evening
it's you she receives.

You are the partner of her loneliness,
the unspeaking center of her monologues.
With each disclosure you encompass more
 and she stretches beyond what limits her,
to hold you."
~ Rilke's Book of Hours- Love Poems to God

For many years I thought, "I'm not beautiful but I know how to put myself together."  Here I am, 60 years old, covered in scars on the outside and just as many (or maybe even more) on the inside.  Now, I feel like a mess and don't even know how to put myself together. 
I remember the moment I first caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror at the hospital.  My face was an ill-matched patchwork of grafted skin from my scalp all sewn together with black thread.  My scalp was raw and bloody because the scalp, as my doctor explained, is always used for face grafting because it is "blushing skin" which is only found from the neck up and he wanted my graft skin to match the rest of my face as much as possible.  It was a horrific sight straight out of a horror flick! 

In the years since, I've become quite a make-up expert.  I draw on the rest of my missing right eye-brow trying my best to match the left one (symmetry is the goal here.)  I use makeup to blend and conceal and create the illusion of a normal face.  There was a time when I was sure that a large tattoo on the scar tissue of my left upper arm was the perfect fix but I learned that thick scar tissue does not tattoo very well so I dropped that idea.  As time went by, I gave up trying to conceal the scars because there are just too many!

And if that isn't bad enough, I'm discovering that the deepest and most difficult scars are internal- well hidden as it were but hardest to mend.  Several months after the attack , I went to a woman trained in healing by a Shaman.  She performed the ceremony and told me that my heart was broken into hundreds of pieces (no surprise, it sure felt like it!) but she went on to say, "Your heart was broken long before the attack!"  sigh... 

Now I must go back, way back to my own beginnings, and give myself permission to examine the ill-matched  threads of my life.  The broken threads that have long since been forgotten but still limit me from my own becoming.  The loudmouths from the hall (in my head) continue to yell, "You must be perfect!  Stop whining- nobody wants to hear that!  Get it together!" but, it's time to clear the hall for a different celebration- My Life!