Goodbye

When I first told my friend that I was in love with her, quite a long time ago now, I told her goodbye and wished her well, and intended to leave her, her family, my church, and even move away when I could, because I assumed that what was going to happen was...well, exactly what has happened, as it turns out. But she assured me that was not the case. She said "I assure you that all negative references to yourself in your last email are unwarranted." Both she and her parents said that I shouldn't leave; that they still wanted to be my friends, and that they cared about me. So I came back, believing that they meant what they said, and tried to be her friend.

But somehow, my trying to be her friend led to her becoming more and more distant, cold, and even hostile toward me, until, eventually, she claimed that I had only ever been an acquaintance to her. Acquaintance. Acquaintance means "You mean nothing to me: you're just some guy I know." And although this was, without contest, the most hurtful thing anyone has ever said to me, I tried to be a good acquaintance to her, as she wished. But it kept getting worse, and eventually got to the point that I felt like I needed to back away from her completely, to give her time to calm down. After a while, it seemed to me that it was getting a little better: she showed signs of being okay being around me. So I tried again, to be an acquaintance or friend or whatever in-between. But above all to be a loving Christian brother.

When I went away for my hike, I told her goodbye the Sunday before I left. That's it: just "Goodbye". My exact words were, "I just wanted to say goodbye, and that it does my heart good that we're parting on better terms." But I got a very offensive and insulting email from her father later that day which, among other things, very clearly inferred that I was harassing her and forcing unwanted attentions on her. I was extremely hurt and disappointed, because I was just thinking that we were genuinely going to be able to be friends again, and my reply, although I tried to moderate it, no doubt showed some of the emotion I was feeling.

When I got back from my hike, I consulted with the priest who had been counselling and advising me on this matter, about how to go about healing and reconciling with them. I acknowledged, and still do acknowledge, my fault in letting myself become hurt and angered by her father's email. He advised time and caution, and I followed his advice. As time passed, she and her family began to make gestures of what I took to be friendliness, or at least of cordiality. So I consulted with him again and we agreed that the time was right for me to reach out to them in hopes of genuine reconciliation. I wrote each member of the family a very brief card, saying that I still cared about them and wanted to keep working toward healing. I specifically used the word "friendship" in hers, to avoid misunderstanding. I got no real response. But a few weeks later, I received another email from her father, this one worse than the previous one. This time he outright accused me of stalking her, because I and they had been in the church parking lot at the same time, after service.

I told him in very blunt, but not angry or hostile, terms, what I thought of his accusation. And my first inclination was to ignore the whole thing entirely, and just go about my life: if they didn't want to be around me, then they could go somewhere else. But then I was told that the girl herself was feeling "fearful and vulnerable", and that melted my heart. So, I wrote her a brief note (the only contact I'd had with her in many months, other than the aforementioned card), asking her if it was true. She replied without actually answering my question, but in a way that clearly showed that she had negative feelings toward me. So, once again, I left the church.

But people sought me out and tried to persuade me to come back. Quite a few people. All of them said that I was loved and valued, and eventually they convinced me to try again, hoping for healing in time, with patience and gentleness. I came back very slowly at first, carefully avoiding any service or activity where I knew she'd be. It seemed to be ok. Her parents both intentionally came and spoke to me, just making friendly small talk, and her mother and I conversed by email. So I eased back in a bit more. I avoided speaking to her, standing near her, or even looking at her. Sometimes I wondered whether, and feared that, I was sending the wrong message by doing that: making her think that I was angry or being intentionally unfriendly. But I was only trying to avoid giving her any reason to feel like I was watching her or trying in any way to pressure her.

I even stopped talking about her and our issues here on my blog. I continued to post songs and poems and quotes, some of which had to do with love and which could, I suppose, have been interpreted as being directed at her; but not every single thing I post should be taken as a direct message to her. I'm fairly obvious when I am being direct: you can usually tell by my use of the second person. And I suppose that some of it can be said to have had something to do with her, in that what I posted was related to how I was feeling or what was on my mind at the time, and what I was feeling may have had something to do with her. But that's as far as it goes. And, once again, if that was the source of stress and anxiety for her, my question is: Why, if I mean as little to her as she says, is she here reading what I have to say?

Anyway, eventually it did seem to be getting better again. I even got a smile. Or a half-smile anyway. Still, it was the best thing that had happened to me in over a year.

I have maintained, from beginning to end, that what we needed to do was to sit down and work things out, and have asked repeatedly for the opportunity to do so. Scripture teaches very clearly that this is what Christians should do. All I ever asked for was this: the opportunity to give and receive forgiveness, and to restore real love and fellowship between us all. But my requests have always been dismissed and refused, or just ignored, both by her and her family and by those who were "mediating" the situation.

This is the teaching of Scripture, and I asked for it for that reason, but I also had a personal reason for asking. You see, when you love someone, you make yourself vulnerable; and the more you love, the more vulnerable you are. And I loved her and her family deeply and truly. I'm not just talking about my romantic feelings for her. There was a profound and genuine affection there that was so powerful that I cannot really explain it. Still is, actually, not 'was'. She and her mother were so sweet to me when I first came to this church, broken and battered and battle-scarred, and feeling like I had never been and could never be really loved. It touched me so deeply that I will never get over it.

But now, since all this, I suffer the torments of the damned every Sunday and every Wednesday. Again, this is not about just her, or desire for her, or anything like that. It's about being shut out of their lives and hearts completely: about them using the power over me that I've given them by loving them to completely and absolutely devalue me. I watch her mother walk in, greet someone, say hello, give a hug. And inside I'm curled up in a little ball, crying like a child who's lost its mother.

So I've kept trying.

But as the weeks and months and years pass, it has become increasingly intolerable to bear that pain twice a week, every week. The whole time I'm there, every time, beginning to end, there's a knot in my stomach, a lump in my throat, and my chest feels like it's being squeezed in a vice. I'm short of breath and my heart races and palpitates, and I can barely keep it together. This is not hyperbole: I'm being quite literal. I've kept doing it, hoping every time that today would be the day when there was some breakthrough, some gesture of genuine love and forgiveness from them. But it doesn't happen, and every week, twice a week, I go home heartbroken all over again. Not even to mention the incredible stress of having to constantly walk on eggshells around her. Nor the pain of being continually reminded that I'm the one person excluded from her company and from everything she's involved in. "Everyone is invited tonight to (whatever the event is)." Well, no, not everyone. I can't do it anymore.

And it's happened yet again: I thought things were getting better; I tried, gently and cautiously, to reach out, in friendship and charity; and I got stabbed in the heart again. Let me be clear on this: "in friendship". I haven't made any secret that what I want is more. But there's a difference between wanting something and trying to force someone into it. I want my unsaved friends to go to heaven: but that doesn't mean that I'm only friends with them because I want to proselytize them.

I was just trying to be considerate.

I don't hate anyone, and I bear no grudges. But I simply cannot go on like this: faking it in church without real forgiveness. It's wrong, and it's sinful, and it's very, very, very painful, and I've reached the end of my endurance.

I don't know what it is about love that deserves to be requited with such cruelty and disdain. Whatever it is, I am truly sorry that my love has been so odious to you.

I am, with immeasurable regret, terminating all contact with everyone and everything associated with this situation. I am so very sorry to have to part from my many friends this way, but I simply cannot bear any longer anything that reminds me of them, or of this. I love you all, and hope you can understand and forgive me.

John Michael Talbot - The Pleiades and Orion

Johnny Cash - Flesh and Blood

“Is 'fat' really the worst thing a human being can be? Is 'fat' worse than 'vindictive', 'jealous', 'shallow', 'vain', 'boring' or 'cruel'? Not to me.”

-- J.K. Rowling

"I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision"

"The only test as to whether we ought to allow an emotion to have its way is to see what the outcome of the emotion will be. Push it to its logical conclusion, and if the outcome is something God would condemn, allow it no more sway. But if it be an emotion kindled by the Spirit of God and you do not let that emotion have its right issue in your life, it will react on a lower level. The higher the emotion is, the deeper the degradation will be, if it is not worked out on its proper level. If the Spirit of God has stirred you, make as many things inevitable as possible, let the consequences be what they will. We cannot stay on the mount of transfiguration, but we must obey the light we received there; we must act it out. When God gives a vision, transact business on that line, no matter what it costs."

-- Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

Faith that has Stood the Test

"The final stage in the life of faith is attainment of character. There are many passing transfigurations of character; when we pray we feel the blessing of God enwrapping us and for the time being we are changed, then we get back to ordinary days and ways and the glory vanishes. The life of faith is not a life of mounting up with wings, but a life of walking and not fainting. It is not a question of sanctification, but of something infinitely further on than sanctification, of faith that has been tried and proved and has stood the test."

-- Andrew Murray

WWII vet's love letter found in thrift-store record sleeve

You've Got a Friend

“Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death."

-- J.R.R. Tolkien

Photograph - Ringo Starr

"But if I turned from every show of love lest it should be feigned, how was I ever to find the real love which must be somewhere in every world?"

-- George MacDonald, Lilith

You Really Got A Hold On Me - Smokey Robinson & The Miracles

I don't know what's going on. Just been digging on Motown lately.

I got two babies, I got two babies...

Finally got to see Hanna. It's surprising how easy it is to slip back into that role: taking care of them, solving problems, buying things they need, making sure they get enough kisses....

Dad Competes In Triathlon With Daughter Who Has Cerebral Palsy

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/08/13/team-maddy-triathlon-rick-van-beek-cerebral-palsy_n_1773662.html

"She functions like a 3-month-old, and one of the very few things that we know she enjoys is being outside, being in the water, feeling the breeze in her hair and in her face," van Beek, 39, told Midland Daily News.
So, in 2008, van Beek -- then terribly out of shape and a heavy smoker -- decided he would start training for outdoor races.
In his blog, van Beek admits that getting into shape was initially extremely difficult.
However, he was determined to live a healthier life for Maddy and to share the fruits of that labor with her.
"I run for and with my daughter,"

Now that's love.

It's a Beautiful Day

There's something in the air. Can you feel it?

Bonhoeffer on Sorrow

"...they [Christians] do not go out of their way to look for suffering, or try to contract out of it by adopting an attitude of contempt and disdain. They simply bear the suffering which comes their way as they try to follow Jesus Christ, and bear it for his sake. Sorrow cannot tire them or wear them down, it cannot embitter them or cause them to break down under the strain; far from it, for they bear their sorrow in the strength of him who bears them up, who bore the whole suffering of the world upon the cross." 

-- Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Living Together 

I came across this as part of an old post, while going back through my blog looking for something else. And realized that I needed to be reminded of it. It's soooo easy to slip into that place of self-protective contempt and disdain, which is the first step on the path of hardness of heart, which will eventually lead you into Hell. That is, the Hell of being truly Alone here on earth, to which the actual Hell is just the natural consummation.

"It was as if the splendour of her eyes had grown too much for them to hold, and, sinking into her countenance, made it flash with a loveliness like that of Beatrice in the white rose of the redeemed. Life itself, life eternal, immortal, streamed from it, an unbroken lightning....Her beauty was overpowering; I was glad when she turned it from me."

-- George MacDonald, Lilith

Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine

"The business of the universe is to make such a fool of you that you will know yourself for one, and so begin to be wise."

-- George MacDonald

Hoʻoponopono

I just learned of this today. In their traditional culture, Hawaiians practice a ceremony of familial and community reconciliation, effecting "mental cleansing: family conferences in which relationships are set right through prayer, discussion, confession, repentance, and mutual restitution and forgiveness." 'Hoʻoponopono' is a combination of the words for moral uprightness and rectitude as a verb. The main feature of the ceremony is the parties repeating the prayer to each other:

"I am sorry.
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you."

Lovely.

"Of all the commerce done in the world, from Tyre to Carthage, the exchange of sympathy for gratitude is the most princely thing."

-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Here Comes The Sun

Aslan is on the move.

Percy Sledge - When a Man Loves a Woman

"We shall almost certainly fail. But let us go down fighting for the right side." -- C.S. Lewis

Patty Griffin and Robert Plant - "Ohio"

Wow

Al Green - How Can You Mend A Broken Heart

I'm watching Notting Hill again for the first time in ages. Forgot what great writing it had. Favorite lines:

"There's this girl. And she's someone who can never be mine... It's as if I've taken love heroin, and can never have it again."


"Let's face facts: this was always a no-win situation. She's a goddess. You know what happens to mortals who get involved with the gods."

"Buggered, is it?"

"Every time."


"The thing is...with you I'm in real danger. It seems like a perfect situation--apart from that foul temper of yours. But, my relatively inexperienced heart would, I fear, not recover if I was, once again, cast aside, as I would absolutely expect to be. There are just too many pictures of you, too many films. You know, you'd go and I'd be...well, buggered, basically."

Cross Purposes - George MacDonald

"It was very silent, and Alice disliked the silence more than the dimness,--so much, indeed, that she longed to hear Richard's voice. But she had always been so cross to him when he had spoken, that he thought it better to let her speak first, and she was too proud to do that. She would not even let him walk alongside of her, but always went slower when he wanted to wait for her; so that at last he strode on alone. And Alice followed. But by degrees the horror of silence grew upon her, and she felt at last as if there was no one in the universe but herself. The hall went on widening around her; their footsteps made no noise; the silence grew so intense that it seemed on the point of taking shape. At last she could bear it no longer. She ran after Richard, got up with him, and laid hold of his arm.

He had been thinking for some time what an obstinate, disagreeable girl Alice was, and wishing he had her safe home to be rid of her, when, feeling a hand, and looking round, he saw that it was the disagreeable girl. She soon began to be companionable after a fashion, for she began to think, putting everything together, that Richard must have been several times in Fairyland before now. 'It is very strange,' she said to herself; 'for he is quite a poor boy, I am sure of that. His arms stick out beyond his jacket like the ribs of his mother's umbrella. And to think of me wandering about Fairyland with him!'

The moment she touched his arm, They saw an arch of blackness before them. They had walked straight to a door--not a very inviting one, for it opened upon an utterly dark passage. Where there was only one door, however, there was no difficulty about choosing. Richard walked straight through it; and from the greater fear of being left behind, Alice faced the lesser fear of going in. In a moment they were in total darkness. Alice clung to Richard's arm, and murmured, almost against her will, 'Dear Richard!' It was strange that fear should speak like love; but it was in Fairyland. It was strange, too, that as soon as she spoke thus, Richard should fall in love with her all at once. But what was more curious still was, that, at the same moment, Richard saw her face. In spite of her fear, which had made her pale, she looked very lovely.

'Dear Alice!' said Richard, 'How pale you look!'

'How can you tell that, Richard, when all is as black as pitch?'

'I can see your face. It gives out light. Now I see your hands. Now I can see your feet. Yes, I can see every spot where you are going to--No, don't put your foot there. There is an ugly toad just there.'

The fact was, that the moment he began to love Alice, his eyes began to send forth light. What he thought came from Alice's face, really came from his eyes. All about her and her path he could see, and every minute saw better; but to his own path he was blind. He could not see his hand when he held it straight before his face, so dark was it. But he could see Alice, and that was better than seeing the way--ever so much."

-- George MacDonald, Cross Purposes