The Gift
There is a moment of expectation that precedes creation of something new. Our spirit quickens when the gift arrives but also fears the unknown: READ THE ENTIRE POST…
The Ringing of the Bells
If troubles were akin to a turbulent sea crashing upon the coastline, perhaps we could hear God’s grace through the faint tinkling in a seashell.
Though we do not hear the words we think we need, heavenly sounds resonate through our souls and reassure our hearts that He is with us.
The Open Door
When I was a new believer, I tried so hard to hit God’s mark for my life. Yet, even though I sought to depend upon His Spirit, I was more aware of my failure than of His heart. READ THE ENTIRE POST…
Glowing Pearl
Have you ever had a hurtful situation that never goes away even though you pray? You tug on heaven’s curtain until your hands bloody and knees numb but the annoying, painful barbs just keep coming? Then as you enter despair’s threshold, you notice a faint glow.
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Warrior Princess
“Fairytales do not tell children that dragons exist.
They already know.
Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” –Chesterton
“Ying Ying: All around this house I see the signs. My daughter looks but she does not see. This is a house that will break into pieces. It’s not too late. All my pains, my regrets, I will gather them together. My daughter will hear me calling, even though I’ve said no words. She will climb the stairs to find me. She will be scared because at first her eyes will see nothing. She will feel in her heart this place where she hides her fears. She will know I am waiting like a tiger in the trees, now ready to leap out and cut her spirit loose.” –Joy Luck Club http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0107282/quotes
I will never forget this poignant scene from the movie “Joy Luck Club.” Ying Ying’s daughter acquiesces to a controlling husband who calculates every dime spent in their marriage. He posts a list of expenditures on the refrigerator divided between him and her. Items on the list include ice cream and milk. Their home is pristine, yet cold and clinical like the relationship that exists between them. Ying Ying visits her daughter and reflects. She realizes that her former choices contributed to her daughter’s low self-esteem. She must harness all of her pain and regret to empower her daughter.
I watched “The Joy Luck Club” at a vulnerable time in my life. I was a young single mom freshly divorced from a marriage with an addicted spouse. I needed to heal and rebuild but my fears stalked me in the shadows. My spirit was bound. More heartbreaking than this was the reality that my own daughter’s fate rested upon whether I could break free. I needed to conquer my demons of mind and soul so I could impart courage. I needed to model a different example of what it meant to be a woman.
I wept through this scene in “Joy Luck Club” and promised God and myself that I would do the same as Ying Ying. I would gather my pains and regrets and use them to release my daughter’s spirit so she could make different choices than the ones that ensnared me. I wanted her to become victorious over all that wounded her young soul.
Last weekend, my daughter and I painted masquerade masks. We talked about overcoming as women. I tried to pass on wisdom gleaned from my difficult journey. I shared how I believed that God had a promising life for her. Yet in my heart, I knew that only she could slay her personal dragons.
She painted her mask like a warrior while I painted mine with a theme of love. How interesting, I mused. To truly love others we must first learn to properly care for ourselves. (“Love your neighbor as yourself.” -Matthew 22:39)
I tried to impart more than words. I tried to give her strength of spirit. So many years have passed since the time I watched “The Joy Luck Club.” I’m not the same woman I once was. I am stronger, wiser, and full of faith. I am “…like a tiger in the trees, now ready to leap out and cut her spirit loose.”
Lie Still my Sweet
Recently, several of my dear friends have lost loved ones: two are presently in my life and one was a part of my life during my former ministry years. As I have prayed for these three incredible women, I wondered what I could say that would provide a few fleeting moments of peace. I tried to imagine what God would say to them and this poem is my earnest, yet feeble, attempt. It is my gift, along with prayers for God’s sustaining grace to heal their hurting hearts. I feel at rest and close to my Creator while in the forest.
This is a test post sent from ping.fm I’m trying to centralize my social media.
Letting Go
A poem about letting go.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about surrender. At crucial turning points in my life, I have had to open my hand and let go of the person or pursuit I thought I could not live without. I wrote this poem years ago when a cherished love interest ended. Although my heart broke from the loss, I now realize this and other partings prepared me for something new and wonderful.
Clipped Wings
There is something rather refreshing about acknowledging imperfection. Delusional thinking melts away when we walk onto the hot pavement of truth. My illusions of high and lofty places evaporated when I left professional ministry. I entered into reality and faced the fact that I was a part of the human race.
I used to indulge the belief that somehow being a pastor’s wife and missionary leader was due to my heightened state of spiritual awareness. Now I chuckle at the obvious lack of self-awareness.
Our Lord, while perfect in nature, chose to relate with our brokenness and asks us to do the same. He forgives our sins so we can extend mercy to others. He sees all people as equals so we can accept them as friends. He comforts our lonely souls so we can hold the hand of another who seeks meaning in a world gone mad.
The once “very spiritual leader” had her wings clipped. Now, I no longer pretend to soar above the struggles of humanity because I daily live with them: humiliation over my failures, endurance for my day job, resistance of this reoccurring sense of purposelessness, and an endless search for identity and destiny.
I walk side-by-side others understanding their reasons for never darkening a church door. I connect with those who once opened church doors and preached to throngs but now cannot find the inner resolve to return. Eyes fill with pity over fallen comrades. The loss of reputation and livelihood are terrifying realities to pass through. Ah, but now I can honestly say, “I’ve been there and survived!”
We hold our reputations lightly, not taking ourselves too seriously; always remembering our feet of clay chip easily and often. Yet in spite of these difficulties, there is something rather freeing about honesty. These past seventeen years have opened up a world of possibilities.
I have healed from my pain, built a new career, and explored new identities. I no longer need to hide my shame because others financially supported my family and me. I can live authentically because I am free!
Clipped wings! This is a rather difficult visual image to hold in one’s mind let alone embrace in one’s lifestyle. Scripture promises we will “mount up with wings of an eagle” and yet, my experience was more akin to a turkey’s—groveling around on the ground pecking for seeds of hope and promises of destiny.
I always imagined those “heavenly wings” sprouting from my strong and noble back. However, life’s circumstances broke my pride until I could not longer sustain spiritual flight. And then I lived a precious truth, those wings were never intended to grow from me; for The Mighty willingly came down to earth, bent low to the ground, and helped me to climb onto his strong and steady back. My clipped wings rustle with winds of opportunity only because His ride the wind currents of change.
The Wrestling
Some grow slowly in cocoons of longing
While others thrash about
Elbows flailing, fists clenched
Tearing wildly at caterpillar confines
While wings of flight form
On backs arched in hurt and pain
These are the warrior spirits
Those whose muscles grow strong in the struggle
To liberate oneself from old messages of shame
Tearing free from parents’ destructive choices
That encased their supple body form
With a hard shell of survival
In time, victorious they will emerge
First, clenched fist penetrating transparent sheath
Then two hands grasping the covering
Tearing a passage of escape
Through which their newly formed image will emerge
Taking flight into skies of possibilities
JoDee Luna © 2006
My Dearest Daughter,
I see you wrestling in your cocoon of longing. The process of your becoming is violent at times. You struggle to break free at such a young age before beaten down into submission from the toil those years of living with another’s sexual addiction takes on a woman’s spirit.
I weep as I write, remembering my pain and yet rejoicing in your release. The metamorphosis is happening. But first there is a wrestling to understand the forces that shattered your family, tore open your heart, and forever scarred your image of men.
In time, you will reconcile this place, this evil, and will emerge from your cocoon of longing with butterfly wings. My heart sings over your warrior spirit and the courage you have to overcome.
Betrayal
Betrayal challenges the most forgiving of codependents. Trust shatters on the shards of reality that cut deeply.
The Thornbird
Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers.”
-Emily Dickenson
Hope may be “the thing with feathers” for some, but the version I encountered through my storms was not some docile bird soaring on the winds.
No, hope wrestled with me in the midst of my despair… and the feathers flew.
Hope roots us into our faith like a mighty tree
You are going to be ok!” A woman, who would end up becoming my Twelve-step sponsor, spoke these words when I dialed the SANON hotline. They calmed me, slowly transforming my hysterical crying into a pitiful whimper. The emotional pain that flooded forth erased all efforts to speak. I could only sob over the phone.
The year was 1993, and my former husband and I had just returned to the states from our missionary post in Amsterdam, Netherlands. We had attended a week-long seminar on sexual addiction before leaving Amsterdam. The feature speaker was Mark Laaser. His words of encouragement, as a former minister and recovering sex addict, provided the first inkling of a way through our dark and turbulent storm.
to be continued…
JoDee Luna
On Tattered Wings 