Peripherals

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I know I am a little late with New Years resolutions but this year has already taken me to London, Istanbul and the emergency ward. The good thing about traveling is perspective and an important thing about illness can be enforced silence. All of this brings me to a New Years resolution that started germinating In Divorce Care.

One of the classes was on forgiveness. On the face of it, it would seem that the hardest part of a divorce is forgiving the other party. I had put a check mark besides that one as my goal was to move on with my life and to give as little energy as possible to fighting a battle where the treaty was already signed.

While in Istanbul the weather altered between snow and freezing rain. I’d watch as it would pour down on the narrow streets and what most held my attention was the persistence of the street vendors. There was every item imaginable for daily living. Even in the cold the life of the city, unlike in Canada, is primarily lived  outside in the side streets and alleys. I realized that the life of the heart is also caught up in the small daily purchases and encounters we have in the side streets.

Like so much of Christianity it is easier to deal with the big issues. Would you renounce Christ if a gun were pointed at your head? No, we proclaim. We would be heroes, but our lives aren’t made up of those moments. In forgiveness in my divorce it was one thing to say I forgive him but the truth is that forgiveness is a lot harder when it comes to all the other people who had a hand in the demise of my marriage and involvement during the divorce. By ignoring the side streets I had hidden resentments in the shadows. For a real forgiveness to take place I needed to inventory my feelings about these people and events. The problem was I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to relive the pain, and anger and hurt. Who turned their backs and said hurtful things? Who said nothing at all? etc. I wanted it all to be done. I wanted to make one grand gesture and be done with it. I didn’t want to live in the process of forgiveness.

Honestly I still don’t want to do this as it leaves me tired and sad but to really be free I need to search out the peripherals, the real places I have lived and bled so that I can mourn all the other losses and move forward in truth.

Wishing you all a New Year that is more than cliches and richer in joy than you ever dreamed, Sincerely, D.

Squeaky Shoes

I have a wonderful friend named Shirley Yamashita.  One of the things I love about her is her freedom in accepting grace.  She is one of those people who shine their faith.  It has been a faith refined by sorrow and difficulty.  She is someone who chooses to focus on beauty, hope and laughter.

I read a blog post she’d done and asked if I could share it. I love how claimed something from her past and let it be transformed.

She said she was no longer blogging but was happy to share. This is what she wrote.

Monday, 10 October 2011

Walking through Life in Squeaky Shoes…

As I walk through the slumbering early morning halls of our office the loud squeak from my shoes vibrates and calls out as I take each step. Surprisingly, I am filled with images, thoughts and emotions with every step, my brain begins referencing a myriads of video in my mind. I recall the movie Mel Gibson played in “What a Women wants”, where his mind was so noisy hearing so many voices and random thoughts of the women around him.I fade to the past, a time when I was an 8 yr old, a little girl walking through the halls of a seemingly enormous school with great old halls, wooden floors and ceilings almost as high as cathedral’s.With every “Squeak” I hear the voice…I feel so small. Squeak…I hate my hair, I think, I’m Japanese I should have STRAIGHT hair not frizzy and thick…I wish it was straight and silky. Squeak…I should have worn a different outfit everyone has better clothes and SHOES! Squeak,…squeak…

Flash through the last 10 years: squeak…I could think about all of the sad and hard things LIKE: my life has been trying…squeak I hated trying to prove my daughter’s challenges…squeak…I wish she was accepted and had friends in her peer group…squeak I wish life was easier for my children…

BUT then: Squeak…my Life is really great now…squeak…My children are growing up to be wonderful people…squeak…I don’t worry about who I am…squeak I am loved and cherished by so many of my family and friends…squeak…I have a place in MY world.

I came to realize that day with the help of my squeaky shoes that through my life that my perspective has changed and the hard times are no longer milestones but doors that are there to be opened to great things. The squeaking bothered me many years ago  as a child because I did not know who I was and I did not feel right in my skin.

I celebrate my squeaky shoes that have allowed me to see life in capsules of scenes and reflect on how far I have come to be “ME” and celebrate.”

May your squeaky shoes be transformed and give you reasons for joy, D.

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