The truth and nothing but the truth...

I have been hearing a lot about the truth lately.

The cost of telling it.  The agony of not telling it.

The truth is not static.  Just because you do not speak it, does not make it go away.

It waits.  

"Truth remains truth – spoken or silent. Eventually, it will come out. It will be heard. And when it does, there’s no going back." Ronna Detrick

No going back...  It sounds so ominous, doesn't it.  But I am learning to be okay with that.  Who wants to stay somewhere that doesn't fit anymore?  Like wearing shoes that don't fit.  Ouch!

I'd rather be barefoot...  in the sand.

I am learning that it is okay to leave behind the things that I have outgrown. I am looking less longingly behind and looking forward to allowing endings and envisioning beginnings.

I am painting less glorified pictures of Egypt and more pictures of stark, beautiful desert landscapes.

I am learning to like sand.

 



Telling the truth propels you forward.  It takes you somewhere else than the place that you have been.

I have no idea where I am going. I just know that I can't stay here.

When the Hell is Easter?

Sitting at my desk this morning I found myself wondering aloud... When the Hell is Easter?

At face value that does not seem like an odd question being that each year Easter comes at different time. In years past I have searched the calendar, through the months of March, April and May, to find out where the hell they put Easter this year. I am sure that there is some computational formula to figure it out, but it is way beyond my math-challenged intellect.

It is also not surprising that the timing of Easter is not on my radar since it has been three years since I have been a part of an organized Church community. Going to church regularly always made it easy to figure out what Holiday was coming next.

You just knew that when there was a stable and manger behind the pulpit,complete with plastic Baby Jesus doll and hay, it was almost Christmas and when the kids were coming out of Sunday School eating those strange yellow marshmallow chicks and whacking each other with giant paper palm branches it was Easter.

It was a simple system, but it worked for me.

However, this morning when I heard myself say the words... When the Hell is Easter?"  I felt something deeper.


An ache in the pit of soul that said, "Haven't I had enough death already?

What about transformation?


Something within my heart was asking,

"When do I get to experience resurrection?

Lately it feels like my life moves from one death to another.


The Death of a dream.


The loss of a relationship.


The slow agonizing death of an ideal or a long held belief.


I feel like I move from grief to more grief, to sorrow from sorrow.


I am weary. I am tired of the stench of death.

And I wanna know..

"When the Hell is Easter?"

Futility

How do you live with futility day after day?
And then just when I think the futility of my life is insurmountable...
I meet someone who has to choose EVERYDAY...
Whether to eat or to have a place to sleep or to buy papers to sell tomorrow
so that he can eat or have a place to sleep or buy papers to sell tomorrow...
How does he live with futility day after day after day...?