For years, every time I looked at the Christian cross, I thought of death, betrayal and abandonment.  I had been raised in a home with a recovering Catholic, my mother.  Throughout her childhood she had the all-too-familiar experience of mean nuns and unsympathetic priests.  Needless to say Christian symbols and the bible were caste in the most negative of light…but I alone, I found myself drawn to Christian beliefs…

 I studied the bible first through the lens of English Literature in college, but I was not satisfied.  Soon I found myself drawn into a church community when I was in my mid-twenties and reeling from a broken heart.  There I discovered a loving God (quite different from my impressions as a child) yet still the bible and its many Christian symbols were meaningless to me…until several years ago. 

We joined a local Christian Church when our kids were toddlers and I began attending weekly Bible study classes with our minister.  It was around Easter and our minister asked me what I thought of the cross?

 I replied a bit defensively, “Well, not a lot.  I’m not sure what this die for my sins stuff is – what sins?  I like to think about Jesus’ teachings instead – specifically from the mountain top.”

 She smiled and said, “Well, I think you will discover there is more to it.”  We then began discussing the disciples with the entire group and I was appalled.  What?  Was she questioning my understanding of Jesus and God?  That I am not tied to that Catholic sin crap – I know she is also a recovering Catholic – this is leftover stuff…and I dismissed her words.

 A few weeks later my world fell apart.  Our son was hurt by a babysitter – shaken-baby syndrome.  We didn’t know at the time that was what had happened – he just started having seizures.  Up to 30 a day, both day and night.  It was horrendous.

 One day I noticed, I had become Mary, helplessly watching my child twist, writhe and fall down stairs over and over.  My son’s experience was beyond my control.  I couldn’t understand why this was happening.  I could only helplessly pray and think of Mary.  I had been so angry at her over the years – how could she stand by as her son was tortured and nailed to a cross?  Didn’t she love him?  Why didn’t she throw herself before the Romans to stop this madness?  How could she abandon him and how could the father, God, not ‘save’ him? 

 And then I realized Mary, she couldn’t change Jesus’ path.  Mary loved Jesus enough to stay with him as he followed his own soul’s calling.  The calling of Jesus’ soul was to be with us – God with us – always.  Thus he was bound to experience not only the joys of life but the pain too.  When you are betrayed, God knows this pain through Jesus and Judas.  When you are abandoned, God even knows this as Jesus cried out to God on the cross… 

 Suddenly I understood, the bible speaks of a Living God, who loves me enough to know my pain intimately, even on a cross.  Today I look at the cross and see love.  I know a God who is with me in my triumphs as well as my darkest hour, for didn’t you know?  Jesus died for our sins. 

 The true definition of sin in the bible is “that which separates you from God.”  I am no longer separated from God, for God is with me always – from sun shiny mountain tops to the dregs of despair, God is with me. 

 Our son recovered from the abuse suddenly – one day there were seizures and the next they were gone.  I am forever grateful for this highly traumatic experience because the sin, the separation, has vanished from my life.  I live every day knowing I am in relationship with a Living God and all things are possible.  I know miracles first hand and I am grateful to be so blessed. 

Yesterday, for the first time in months, I watched Oprah.  Frankly, I was curious.  There had been so much hype – Oprah’s fat again and talking.  So I sat and listened…and I saw someone not getting it still…

 She spoke about her blooming weight and exhaustion as being a sign of her life being out of balance – not taking care of herself, not putting herself on her own list.  Her cure – love by way of manicures, eating right and exercise.  Ummm, excuse me?  What? 

 Yes, the blooming weight is a sign of her life out of balance, but the weight is a symptom of something bigger.  The weight is the outward sign of her grief; her wounded place…food has become the comfort to keep grief away, the nagging hunger that is never quite satisfied.  All of us carry this grief, born individually in needs gone unmet in childhood or in horrific moments; it looks different for each of us…

 The pain is revealed through our addictions – addictions to food, drugs, alcohol, shopping, always being right, cleaning incessantly, victim mentality, control…Each of us finds our “fix” – the thing that blunts our pain – if only for a moment.  It becomes our go-to-strategy when the pain or grief is triggered.   The trickiest part is, no matter how much “work” you do – this grief/pain can be unexpectedly triggered at any moment.  And this is also an opportunity – your life is speaking directly to you – help me…But how to?

 With massages, manicures, and exercise?  Well, yes and no…Yes adding these things will help you feel good, but alone, they are just surface fixes of the body.  They are the surface part of taking care of self, but they don’t truly nourish your heart or soul.  It is in your heart and soul that your grief, your pain waits with pleas of not enough…not enough love. 

 It’s the grief that drives the blooming weight, drugs, alcohol, controlling behaviors to fill the “not enough” places within…The grief can not be filled up with activities – no matter how healthy – the pain causing the grief has to be pulled out into the light and only you can heal it…Through quiet meditation, silence, journaling, creating art, music…through being with yourself – kindly, gently, accepting of all the good and the bad, humor…by being your own best friend, parent, child…

 Instead of just finding outside strategies to handle your stress, anxiety, out-of-balance behaviors; I encourage you to you create more resources within, so when you are triggered, you don’t have to fall so far. 

 I absolutely agree with Oprah that we are constantly evolving, challenged to grow, no matter our place in life.  Money or fame does not isolate you from the messy business of life, just look at the Travolta family.  There is no plateau in enlightenment…life still comes with its ups and downs.  It’s you who decides where to focus your attention and notice your own life calling out to you…help me.

“You learn to bear it.  Yes, some things you just learn to bear,” were the words spoken to me the other day with a tight smile and condescending eyes.  I was shocked – you learn to bear it?  Are you kidding me?  And then again she repeated this philosophy, “Someone of my advanced years has had more experiences and learned that some pains are learned to be lived with, to walk with.”

 Again, I was speechless.  Was this woman serious?  Could she possibly be trying to tell me that her life pains/traumas were more painful then mine and one day I too would gain entry into this elite group that walks with pain?  The most difficult part of the interaction for me is – she was serious.  Her pains, her life experience were so hard – she proved it, she beared it everyday, proudly even.  I shut my mouth, not questioning any longer, but spinning.

 “Bearing it” has only disempowered my life, myself and most of all my relationship with God.  I have come to accept that today, I can only see in part, all will be revealed in time.  And when my fears, my anxieties, even my own victim self reveal their presence still – I smile, start singing a Karen Carpenter song in my head and think, what do I need to lay down?