A hole in my soul

I'm still playing with this, so bear with me.


There's a hole in my soul...

where love and intimacy are supposed to live.

A broken sign dangles from one end on the proverbial rusty chain,

"Danger - Abandoned Building."


There's a "black hole" in my soul

where love and intimacy are supposed to overflow.

You can't fill it.

God won't fill it.

All my joy was sucked in...

and disappeared.


There's a hole in my sole...

where love and intimacy are supposed to roam.

Raw skin oozes from the underside of blisters,

worn by too many unprotected miles.


There's a hole that aches in my soul.

A hole that I didn't know existed...

like one of those abandoned coal mine tunnels,

winding around empty, under a town.

The street above looks quite normal with homes, yards and lives.

A family lived in one of those homes... until recently.

They worked and played and seemed to love each other there.

The lilacs and roses bloomed in the side yard,

the dog chased a Frisbee up the back hill.

One day the supports of that mine tunnel gave way.

the gaping hole beneath the home facade opened up to swallow their mirage.

The bedrock of love didn't exist.


There's a hole that aches in my soul.

Election night

It's an exciting night in the US! I'm thrilled that Obama is doing so well! Yea!!! We're going to have an intelligent person leading our nation again! A democrat in the presidency again! A brown man in the white house! It's about time! Sometimes I think Americans are pretty intelligent, but then on election years the general public terrifies me. There are so many paranoid rumors flying around because too many people are stupid enough to believe them. We have yet to have a person of color or a woman in the white house while countries with terrible human rights records for women have had women presidents. Most of the world is not white, and yet we have managed to maintain white control. In our last election we decided to elect a total *%% because he smiles so nicely and calls himself a Christian, even though nothing he does represents Jesus' view point. What is wrong with us that we cling to ignorance and paranoia, rather than seeking knowledge and truth? At least tonight it looks like we can celebrate that intelligence is winning!


As I write this, I'm also tired of the commentaries on every burp in the process. It'll be nice to hear the summary.

The Dance

Went dancing last week. I've been thinking about, and reliving that ever since. What is it about dancing that is so wonderful? What's not to like? (Unless you don't like your partner) I had the joy of dancing with men I care about so it was wonderful to be close, snuggling in to the body of another, becoming part of him. I love moving in unison with another, striving to move as one. It's interesting that in intercourse, we gain excitement by moving in opposition. In dancing, the whole goal is to move together. A friend of mine from years ago, who also was an amazing dancer, said that the man's role in dancing is to show off his partner. No matter how good or bad his partner is, the man's role is to show the beauty of his partner. I think dancing is learning to read another's mind, move with another body, with another soul... seeking to read the slightest movement and respond in flowing, flawless unison. Dancing is being with another person so much that you can anticipate what your partner's next move will be. It's experiencing the magic of human touch, the seduction of unison movement. At this point in my life, those moments of dance are like a "slice of heaven."

Children

My children are still angry because I made their father move out. They are eager to forgive his horrible treatment of them for years. They do not understand that half of my reason for making their father leave was to protect them. I hope that soon they will forgive me for trying to protect them. Somehow, I think they will.

Trusting the tradition

After spending last week on retreat with a group of people of faith, and after worship today, I am sorting through what it means to just trust the tradition and rely on the faith of others. Last week we shared communion around the dinner table. I closed my eyes and just listened as over and over, various voices said, "The body of Christ, given for you." "The bread of heaven." "The cup of salvation." "The blood of Christ, shed for you." As I recall the voices, I feel the presence of those loved ones passing the bread and cup, and offering Christ to each other. Do I dare say that I feel the presence of God? Maybe. Maybe not. But I feel something real, something strong... faith in God that I don't have... love for God that I don't have. I am steeped in a tradition that does not blow with my moods, or my doubt. It carries on. And maybe it carries me along with it. What a blessing to hear from my loved ones, "It's okay. I've been where you are. We'll believe for you. " I keep trying to sort out my beliefs as I experience life, and right now, what I have believed isn't matching my experience. But maybe that is okay for now because I have a rich tradition and people who love God and me.

Today in worship, we celebrated an anniversary of the church. As I listened to the bagpipe, the trumpet and the voices of faith, I thought. "We have a heritage that isn't threatened by my individual doubt. We have centuries of people struggling to understand God in light of the life they experience. We have centuries of people putting their struggles and their faith into words. Words of prayers, words of songs, words of affirmation." I will continue my faith struggle, but for now I am comforted that my struggle is within my tradition. And that tradition is stronger than I. For this I am grateful.

The love of good friends

I spent a week with friends, and it was so refreshing. These are the kind of friends with whom you can be real. You can say what you think and feel. You can be honest about who you are, and they will still love you…I think. That’s the problem with unconditional love, it seems so untrustworthy. Who gives unconditional love? Who gets unconditional love? In our world, that honestly doesn’t totally happen. Even with family. There’s a part of us that says, “I’ll love him/her no matter what.” But we all have limits. In the back of our minds there’s always a condition. For me, my conditions aren’t based on what a person does morally, but who a person is, personality-wise. This group is funny. They’ve been together for almost 30 years, so they are sure of their love for the other old-timers. But what about us newer members? And what about the fact that there are certain people in the group who annoy the hell out of me? I haven’t known them long enough or liked them enough to love them unconditionally. You know, I’ve always believed I could love people unconditionally, but there are certain conditions that have to be there for me to care enough about a person to love them unconditionally. For instance, there’s a person in this group who annoys me to death. He dominates every conversation and you can’t get a word in. He doesn’t ever listen to anybody else, just talks incessantly every time I’ve been in an unstructured conversation. I can’t love him unconditionally. And so when they tell me that the group loves unconditionally, I have to question that. For one thing there are only certain people that are allowed in the group. So what happens if I do something that would be on the elimination list of behaviors? Do I not get invited back? Is my position secure once I’ve been in the group a few years? How many years? Where’s the line?

I guess I write about this, not because I fear for my ability to belong to the group, but to recognize that if there is a god who loves unconditionally, humans aren’t really capable of that broadness of character. We can’t love absolutely unconditionally. Or maybe it’s just that I can’t. And so there’s always a question. “What’s the condition of my acceptance? Does God really love unconditionally?” And of course I have to say that if God’s answering prayer is a sign of that love, then it doesn’t exist for me. After all these hours of prayer, still I get nothing.

If god exists

If God exists and life sucks anyway, does it really matter?