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I have been struggling with whether or not I should blog about something that happened on Good Friday. I guess my writing now indicates my decision.
I have been away from my little blogging community for a while, and believe me, I miss all of you sorely. But, I’ve been busy with a lot of personal things, and I’ve been in and out of state. A LOT HAS BEEN GOING ON!
I haven’t been feeling all that well, and quite frankly, I have just felt too blasé about life in general to eek out enough gumption to say much. I am very sorry for being so unavailable. I will be trying to catch up with each of you this week. I know I’m back-logged with posts to read. And I love reading them, so it won’t be all that hard.
Back to my story. This past Good Friday was a day that will be forever seared in my mind. And in deference to the truth, it was not at all good. It was, however, a little liberating, and I was able to release some things that have tormented me for some time.
I met with a pastor and a female friend of mine that day. The reason for the meeting was to clear up a matter of gossip. I had asked the pastor to arrange the meeting so that I could get to the bottom of three months worth of badmouthing I had experienced from this lady.
I am a very direct person when it comes to certain things. Gossip would be one of those things. I’ve seen it destroy countless lives. And this lady, both a church leader and friend, should know better. I know I am probably being judgmental.
I’ve got to confess that I was seething before the meeting ever began. It went pretty smoothly – as smoothly as meetings of this variety could go – for the first hour. Then it happened. I descended into this base carnality. She said three things in sequence (apparently pulling them from an alternate universe) that set me off. It was hard enough to stay calm when she had been proclaiming one particular lie as the truth throughout the meeting, no matter how many times I politely gave her opportunity to clarify.
But, she (or the devil) knew exactly what three things to say in order to elicit a reaction from me. And react I did. I was so evil. I will not repeat here the things I said in the church that day. I am too ashamed. But suffice to say that I just unloaded on this woman, a so-called friend of mine (and I’m not being fair because she really has been a friend to me). It was as if a volcano was erupting and I couldn’t shut it off. I was so sick of the hypocrisy, the lies, and the smug smirk on her face as she doled out religious justification for her nonsense.
I have been trying to be patient with this lady for years. And I won’t go into the circumstances, because that doesn’t excuse my malefic reaction. I said some horrendous things – purposely hurtful things. I did that because I knew they would hurt her, and I wanted her to feel the same sting that I was feeling by what she had done. So many things came out of my mouth that I really didn’t mean. But that wasn’t the point. My intent was to maim. And that’s precisely what I did.
The only redeeming thing that came out of that meeting was that God showed me this dross still dwelling so deeply within me. I am very aware that I am a far cry from being a picturesque Christian (whatever that is), but the things I spewed from my mouth that day gave me a greater glimpse of just how far I am away from being what God wants me to be. I was so immature and just plain mean.
I have been tormented by Black Friday ever since that meeting. I feel sick in my stomach that I was so cruel. I sent an email the next day and apologized for the mean things I said and asked her to forgive me, but I was still angry, and that letter certainly conveyed that. I was trying to be real: I just told her that God was trying to help me get to a place where I could completely forgive all of the things she had done.
Still, I feel disgusting. I feel uneasy. I feel immature and cruel. This haunts me. I wish I could fix things, but I really believe the friendship is irretrievably damaged. I counted this woman – with all of her merits and demerits – a friend. And the loss of the friendship brings a lot of pain. I truly believe that I was completely unable to cope with anymore religious pretense used to disguise selfish, vindictive attacks – especially when it comes from the mouth of a friend. Betrayal of this magnitude is beyond what I can deal with right now.
I feel like a low life. That’s probably because I behaved as one. I want to say I will just turn it all over to God . . . and I know I have to do that. But this is really not that easy. Done venting.
Enveloped in enigma. I didn’t want it to happen like that. But it did anyway. Pages from my life’s story were ripped from my hands, and I was powerless to do anything about it. And with these pages went my face. What remains is but an apparition, an amorphous visage, of what was once a clarion countenance.
I could lay out my story, in part, from faint memories that haunt me with their persistent pleas for recognition, for some validation of their now trivial existence. But others have re-written my story for me. They said it was too dangerous to affirm what was once manifest, but now carefully camouflaged. With the avulsion of my face, a new one was crafted with the same surgical skill used to remove the former image.
And they took my voice too. It wasn’t enough to simply supplant the superficial. No, they had to delve deeper and smother every vestige of vocal tone I could call my own. I must be muted. No longer could I be me. I had to live a new life – their life.
Over my barren soul they layered papier-mâché, a convincing construct, whose only truth is that it is wholly a lie. “But this is the price of your freedom” they muttered. But why does it have to cost so much? Why can’t this scandalous truth be embraced by the light? Is it still too treacherous? And whose life plummets for your preservation? Mine, if there still is a “mine.”
Everything that was me they laid waste to with calculated cunning. The scattered shards of my soul puncture and bleed my callous feet as I try to stagger away from the life that was once my own. I must bury me. They have provided the casket and will surround it with soil if I will but lay myself into their sepulchral solution. Solution? For whom?
Content with my extinguished existence, they celebrate their triumph over my troubles. They congratulate themselves on delivering their duty, my erasure. “Another case solved. Another tragedy averted” they exclaim. But it is I who starts over. They just continue, lives uninterrupted and unencumbered.
Casually they comment, “You have done the right thing by preserving justice and bearing bravery.” My consolation is isolation, my reward reinvention. But I find no comfort in this novel, lonely life – no reward in starting anew by denying my distorted history.
I was once. Really I was. I am not now. Really I am not. An amorphous façade, enigmatic by necessity, not nature. A fictitious face, forced by fortune, not by fidelity.
I feel . . .
Torrential rain
Endless tears
Shapeless love
House of mirrors
Wind-blown leaves
Shaking hands
Desert dryness
Shifting sands
Volcanic thunder
Convulsive sobs
Pillaged feelings
Emotional mobs
Frozen fright
Melted will
Fallow ground
No need to till
Loss that gains
Gain that’s loss
The hornet’s sting
Of count the cost
I feel . . .
Help me!
I’m shattered and broken,
Completely undone
My heart ripped asunder
By the one that I love
Like the scorching sun
On the morning mist
You vanquished our love
Seems that I don’t exist
Why should I be left alone?
To languish in this loss
When you promised you’d love me
No matter the cost;
But when it cost you you
You threw in the towel
Stuck in a hook
And ripped out my bowels
I’ve lost all my words
My tongue’s become dumb
The pain still persists
When I thought I’d be numb
I grope for some answer
That will banish my pain
I scrub at my heart
To erase all the stain
But your touch is implanted,
Indelibly deep
It leaves me a vacuum
Wholly incomplete
Hopeless, nothing, meaningless life
Beat on an anvil, gripped in a vice
Move on? To what?
I’m lost without you
Be strong! Don’t cry!
Two things I can’t do
Don’t worry; it’ll pass
Things will get better
Nice words you say
But my soul is still fettered
I love you; I need you;
I miss you; it’s true
I can’t get me back
I gave me to you
Help me!
