Hope Victorious

Hurt can be like a hit-and-run accident.  Sometimes the person who has hurt us never asks for forgiveness.   Sometimes they don’t even acknowledge the hurt they’ve caused. At times it is unintentional, a true accident.  But other times it is not an accident at all, but rather a purposed act of violence. Regardless of the presence of motive, sometimes we are left alone -             beaten and bleeding and the one who caused the pain is long gone.  No relationship. No future. No process or apology.  There is no hope of restoration.           Now sometimes that is just fine with us. I surely had no desire to continue a relationship with the guy who raped me!           But what about the situation where you are hurt, and the relationship is severed, but it was a good relationship and you desperately desire that it be restored?!   THAT kind of hit-and-run is a hard thing to forgive. The painful thing ended a good relationship and now the person is gone, no longer a factor. But here we are,

My grandparents had a farm. My grandpa raised pigs and was a butcher. By the time of my childhood memories, he didn’t have the pig business anymore, but they still had several animals. They always had chickens, mostly for the eggs, but they also raised some so that there was plenty of chicken in the freezer. We ate more rabbit than chicken though, because we all liked it better. My parents raised and butchered rabbits for food as well. In addition to chickens and rabbits, my grandparents usually had a couple of cows, sheep, and a few pigs to raise litters for both food and to sell meat.  They also had a HUGE garden. I loved the garden at their house. It was a little bigger than half a football field. Half the garden was planted with corn every year and the other half vegetables. They had an orchard of fruit trees and a couple of nut and fruit trees around the property. The orchard and garden had to be fenced in with high fencing to keep the deer out. The animals had their pens, pasture

  Sometimes it is lonely to be me No one quite understands Even where there is “together” I can feel alone      Together we parent           But I am alone as mom of my boys      Our marriage is us together           But I am lonely at times as the wife of my dear husband      In friendships, I am together                So much at times I feel overwhelmed by the demand on me as friend And yet I am lonely for someone to pursue me for me   I fight to stay focused outward –      To not retreat, give up, or cry      I answer the questions that are not asked      I try - I keep going, keep giving, keep hoping Rarely am I alone – I am surrounded by people      They are almost always people that I love - And still, I am lonely Lonely for someone to know the depths      Hear the hardest things and just understand      To sit with me in the grief and darkness      To feel the sorrow and loss      Not to rescue, solve, or pity Sometimes I don’t need or even want strategies, answers or possibil

I started college in 1992 and also met the man I would marry that year. It was a time of growth and transformation for me. I was processing a lot of pain and doing the inner work of defining myself outside of the trauma I had experienced in high school. During my first year of college, I began to pursue God and found inner peace and healing to depths I had not previously believed were possible. All the while, my future husband and I were becoming good friends. I journaled a lot in those days and also wrote poems. I used poetry to express my hopes, fears, and dreams. My poems from those days were often directed to God.  One thing I did in my fifth and last year of college was to collect all the poems I could find that I had written and assemble them into a homemade book. I titled it "Colors of My Soul" and made a cover with watercolor prints of leaves. I gave the book as a gift to my fiancé. We began dating during my fourth year of college and married the summer following my g