5
Aug
This photo is so beautiful to me…Like that of a phoenix diving into the sea to cool it’s burning feathers. Rebirth and light are what I see when looking at this. I thought I would share it, so that anyone who wishes to, can absorb the beauty and majesty of that, this one lovely cloud…
30
Jul
Since I have no idea what to ‘blog’ about, I’ve decided to post something that explains a bit about me as a person, like the reason for my dakness as well as my light. 
I was required to write a short narrative in my creative writing class that tells that particular tale. We had to write about something real in our lives that we had drawn some kind of personal inspiration from. So, this is my short ‘little’ story…
~A Faithful Heart~
The stark white walls of the hospital’s family gathering room seemed to sedate me, clouding my vision. A featureless man appeared to me and tried to engage me in conversation by introducing himself as the Chaplin of the hospital. I couldn’t hear or see and had no interest in speaking to him. I was unable to even comprehend his presence at this point. It was an April night, and the rain pelted down as I paced the halls of the hospital. I wanted to go outside and feel the rain soak my face. I just couldn’t leave the narrow hall that I had nearly worn a path in with my pacing. Something in me wouldn’t allow it. It had become my new home. The Chaplin tried to approach me several times over the next few hours, but I wanted no part of him. How I wish I would’ve given him a chance, as the words he gave me later that night, sustain me to this day.
After what seemed like an eternity, a blond haired detective took me by the elbow and led me to a dark corner of the hallway that I had grown so lovingly accustomed to. He had crystal blue, cold, dead eyes. The deadest eyes that I’d ever seen. “We’re going to need you to go to the morgue and identify the body.” He told me this while looking straight into my eyes. His unsympathetic gaze caused the hairs to rise on the back of my neck. It made me shiver somewhere deep inside. All I could do was stare, stare at (not into) those piercing eyes. They gave no sign of expression or life, it was like he had announced such things everyday and was so tired and removed that it wasn’t even a person he was looking at anymore. I was but another statistic to him, another sad story to lock in the annals of his mind… He put his hand on the small of my back and led me through double doors that took us down a long hallway, where he briefly paused before almost pushing me through the door into a dismal room that smelled of things I hope I never smell again in my life. He directed me across the room to a table that held something I didn’t want to see. It was a table that seemed too big and too cold.
He saw a corpse, just another dead body. But I saw my Mommy laying there. The only person who loved me unconditionally, she always laughed at my silly jokes and made me feel better when I was down. My father was gone before I was born and this was the only person in the world that had ever cared about me. She was my entire life, and now she was dead. She was lying on a slab of steel, with a sheet pulled up above her chest. The room stunk so bad that I almost threw up, but nothing would keep me from making sure they weren’t lying to me. It just had to be some huge, cruel joke that someone was playing and at any moment she would open her eyes and grab my hand. But I knew my Mother wouldn’t play such a devastating joke, she loved me too much to do that.
A feeling came over me that I can only express as a complete and utter shock. The only thing I could do was hear. My throat fell into my toes and all of my other senses seemed to fail me. A high pitched sound was piercing through my ears and assaulting every fiber of my being. A screeching that resonated to the very depths of my soul. It felt like someone was shocking me with an electrical jolt, over and over again. It was all I could do to keep my feet under me. The sound lingered for what seemed to be an eternity. It was echoing off the steely walls and back into me. I could hardly believe it when I realized, that sound had been coming from me. I ran as fast as I could out of the room. I ran into the hallway, racing through several doors, to reach the fresh, cold air outside. I needed air, I needed to gulp the brisk taste of chilling nothingness and fill my lungs with it.
No thoughts were present, all I could feel was this deep aching pain all through my body. The next thing I remember thinking is “how can I escape this?” How can I make this sickening pain go away?” I paced in the rain until settling on a concrete bench to catch my breath. As soon as I sat down, the Chaplin that had been trying to corner me earlier appeared beside me. I hadn’t heard him walk up to me, nor had I seen him. The stench of his body odor is what alerted me to his presence. I was wondering to myself how I could even think about his body odor when my Mom was lying inside those doors, gone forever from me. He seemed like a nice man, caring and compassionate, so why was it, that all I could focus on was his reeking stench?!
Every little thing was having a direct impact on me now. Every sound and every movement was in slow motion. Every thought was excruciating. I only wanted to get away from him, from this place and this horrifying pain. Until I looked into his eyes, that is. I saw such deep empathy and compassion. Genuine caring radiated and it was so much stronger than that smell. I could tell that he saw what was really there. He saw a terrified young girl sitting on a bench. A girl with her knees under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs, hugging herself into a tight little ball. He saw me sobbing and screaming for my mom. He saw someone who didn’t have the knowledge to know how to deal with this trauma. He knew I was trying to blink so hard that I would wake up and realize that this had all been a nightmare. He saw me and for some reason, I let him enter my crumbling world.
“You’ll see your Mother again.” His voice was soothing and gentle as he put his hand on my shoulder and repeated the same thing, “You will see her again, and she will hug you and you will feel safe.” I was so stunned and I don’t know why. I was in utter awe that he could say these words to me, that he could say anything to me! How could the world be going on, when mine had stopped? How could this persons lips be moving and why was he making sound? How was it that he was even seated next to me, when my only security and love was gone? I was dumbfounded. And then he said “All you have to do is believe it and it will be so.” I must have stared at him for so long…aching and searching. After some time, I finally began to see the resolution in him that was undeniable. In that very simple moment, when nothing else was present and the world had died around me, he gave me hope…he gave me faith.
I found something there on that concrete bench, out in the chilling night that I desperately needed to believe. I had to have that belief or I would’ve completely ceased to exist. It would have caused me to self-destruct. I had found a glimmer of hope and he had shown it to me. Despite the fog that had settled on my mind, I saw what he was trying to show me. This idea was all I could focus on. My core had to resolve in my mind that my Mom was still tangible, and I would have her comfort and love again someday. I had to believe that some great God was holding her in his hand and she was peaceful and happy and that someday in the distant future, after I had lived a long life that she would be proud of, I would be with her again.
Now, 20 years later, I still thank God for sending that Chaplin to me. I’ve not seen him since, yet his words continue to help me combat the sorrow I feel deep in my soul. I’m thankful that the Chaplin came back to me, after I’d so adamantly avoided him in that hallway. His persistence personifies God’s faithfulness to me, in spite of my attempts to hide from His love, He found me. The words the Chaplin gave me that night will echo in my heart forever. The one I tried to flee from in the beginning is the one I shall never forget in the end.
‘Faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you cannot see’.
Soo, Just my little story, my means to an end if you will…
And a tribute to one who was taken much too soon.
May she rest in Eternal Peace…
ravenous