If you had read those, you would have journeyed with glass bottles as they flounder in the ocean until they end up as bits of smooth-edged glass in a re-purposed vinegar bottle--no longer what they originally were, but still things of beauty. You would have wondered with me about the ancient, from the beginning of time, agates and stones I keep in a clear salt shaker. What native children have thrown them? What surfers have run across them? What tsunamis have thrown them inland? I wonder.
My Blue Piggy Bank was the next victim. Oh, the money it has held and where it was spent brought back fond memories of Hawaii as well as the Elementary School Penny Drive.
The fourth and last item was my messily made bed that needed its sheets changed, its dust ruffle mended, and its nightstand dusted. Will the housework ever end?
After all that, I still wasn't finished. Those were just the exercises leading up to the actual assignment. "Light a candle" the instructions began. We were to then describe the candle in ways that would draw the reader into the mood we were feeling or into a mood the candle created. We wanted them to experience the lit candle with us. That was an interesting process.
When I finished with all this work, I was so thankful for the year and one-half I spent in therapy. This may sound silly, but if I hadn't been forced into finding my feelings, this lesson would have been terribly difficult. I clearly remember the day Dr. B. asked me what I felt or thought when I drove to the prison to visit my husband.. I had no idea. What did I feel or think on the way home? This is crazy. Here is the answer I finally gave. "I feel the same thing I feel when I go to the grocery store, nothing."
It took me months of consciously thinking about what I was thinking until I could easily answer those types of questions. Back to the candle assignment. I had little trouble putting into words what I was thinking because I was aware of my thoughts. Here is what I wrote.:
A Lighted Candle
At first glance the candle gracing my table seems regal. Its height and straightness are impressive, and there is a hint of nose-in-the air haughtiness at its tip. It allows only a bit of golden light to enhance the table below. Though merely wax, it considers itself all powerful—a dispeller of darkness, one to be worshipped. But I won't be deluded by what I see. Though tall and straight on its own, it leans away from its silver holder. The melting wax, instead of cooling as it courses down the candle’s sides, falls like tears onto the gleaming oaken surface beneath it. The light moves back and forth with every unseen breath of air. I watch the flame struggle to remain upright as it fights a losing battle. I can clearly see that my tall, leaning, weeping candle is not haughty, nor is it regal and all powerful. It is a lowly wick-containing stick of wax struggling to bring light and hope into my darkened room. Burn on, lowly one, burn on. You are doing well.
I have since made a note on what I wrote. "Haughtiness and pride must be thrown away when one struggles.A fight against the gusts blowing our way cannot be fought while we are trying to put on an air of 'all is well in my world'." Now, as an added thought, (see, I am thinking about what I am thinking) Though our fire for the Lord may be bright and strong, I am thankful that Jesus can shield us from the stormy blasts that try to blow it out. When the going gets too rough, he wants to hide us under his wings just as he did Jerusalem.
How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing! Matthew 23:37b
With that final thought, I'm off to house sit my son's dogs and cats tonight, then heading off to an out of town cross county meet with my daughter tomorrow. It will probably be Monday before I post again.
Have a great weekend, a God weekend
Jan
No comments:
Post a Comment