I don’t know what to do with anger; it always does what it wants with me. It’s kinda like what happens with grammar school science projects having to do with volcanoes. Baking soda and vinegar, instant eruptions, quickly covers all, eventually flows onto the floor or table, wherever the science project is placed.
That’s me when my fuse is lit; I am covered; I instantly erupt, my ire quickly travels through every single cell; each cell exploding on their own, joining the initial explosion; the heat builds; my body’s temperature rises; my blood pressure spikes; my ears turn red; don’t laugh, they really do!
How do I control an emotion that ambushes me and holds me hostage? Self-control is one of the Fruits of the Spirit. Lord, will I ever be blessed with control over the self that ignites without warning? I write, I take my meds, I do what the doctor suggests, I usually am able to shake most things off these days. But then, it hits. It is usually tied to hurts of the past that have never been resolved, may never be resolved, some lost to time, lost forever on this earth.
What is it I am to learn? What is it I have yet to learn? What will it take for me to learn? I think helplessness fuels my fire; I know I fear abandonment; I’m shattered by love unrequited, love tied to blood, blood that flows through my veins linking me forever in this life.
Help me, Dear Lord. I never win this battle. Why do I keep trying? Why do I care? Why do I let love undo me, when there is so much love offered freely, without conditions, without power over me and my emotions? I allow it, I know; run, run, run from this loveless love. Dear Lord, I’ve wasted too many tears, too much spent energy, too much time devoted to those not devoted to me.
You want more for me, that I believe. You, Dear Lord, have sent so much love my way; that I know. Why do I keep insisting on love that is not and has not been mine for a very very long time? I am only hurting myself; I am tired of hurting myself; I know love; I know what love is not. Love is a verb; it’s an action; it is shared; it grows; it takes time; it is treasured; it is cherished; it is important, essential, vital.
Your love, Dear Lord, is perfect love. Your love is the only perfect love I have ever known. Thank You for loving me, Lord. Thank You, Lord, for wanting to spend time with me. Thank You, Lord, for letting me know You are there always. You are Love. You love me, that is all I ever need. Amen
The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one to lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours — it is an amazing journey — and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins. ~Bob Moawad
Blest Be the Tie that Binds
Author: John Fawcett 1782
Tune: Dennis Nägeli
Blest be the tie that binds
our hearts in Christian love;
the fellowship of kindred minds
is like to that above.
Before our Father’s throne
we pour our ardent prayers;
our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,
our comforts and our cares.
We share our mutual woes,
our mutual burdens bear,
and often for each other flows
the sympathizing tear.
When we are called to part,
it gives us inward pain;
but we shall still be joined in heart,
and hope to meet again.
This glorious hope revives
our courage by the way;
while each in expectation lives
and waits to see the day.
From sorrow, toil, and pain,
and sin, we shall be free;
and perfect love and friendship reign
through all eternity.
The hymn, Be Thou My Vision, was written by the sixth century Irish poet, Dallán Forgaill.
Translator: Mary E. Byrne and Eleanor H. Hull
Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.
Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.
Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.
High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.