No Grasping

Separation, estrangement...the words evoke distance and pain...both part of my journey over the past couple months (see previous blog entry).  To love and then to be estranged...whether from friend or partner or child or parent, is to experience a kind of living death.  The cords of relationship are broken, and emotions linked to grieving--anger, depression, and bargaining--cycle round and round again.

"How can she treat me this way!?"   "What did I do to deserve this!?"  "Where did I go wrong?"  "Maybe if I do _____ he will love me again."   "How can I manage without this relationship?"  Tears of heartbreak and frustration flow...even after you think you've made progress in "accepting" the situation or at least found a way to distract yourself from the pain for awhile.

This I know for sure: we cannot make anyone love us, no matter how hard we try!  But what are we to do with the pain of rejection?  As one who seeks, often stumbling, to follow Christ, I've looked for answers in scripture and in a helpful book I read a few years ago while dealing with rejection in the workplace.  The book is Jesus and Power (David Prior) and its theme is "No grasping!"

Jesus never tried to grasp for worldly power or recognition or acceptance.  He knew rejection, but emptied himself of all but love, and a will to obey God...unto death.  Can we who follow him do less?  Not if we would know the joy, the peace, and the power he promised. No grasping allowed, only loving, and believing that he who calls us "friend" will give us all we need.   (Philippians 2: 3-8; John 15: 9-17).

But there is something we ARE to grasp, and that is faith...faith that God is at work in us and in the lives of those we love (who are loved even more by Him!)...teaching us how to love.  And we have critical roles to play in this work through prayer; this I'm learning in a deep way from a book read and re-read in recent months:  Intercessory Prayer (Dutch Sheets).

A wise friend--with a wisdom gained through enormously painful family struggles--shared with me early in my own hard journey that "God is always working to bring order out of chaos."   He is also working to bring healing where there is hurt, and light where there is darkness.

Just before I left Ecuador in late September--for a second trip to the US within the month--a double rainbow filled the evening sky above the Andes.  Brilliant light at one end of the rainbow pierced the mountain...for me a powerful symbol of God's promise to bring light to darkness.  I await the fulfillment of this promise within my family, and in the wider world, while doing my part through prayer and prayer-led action.

Alone...November 2014

"I doubt I'd ever want to live here alone," I said to Bill as we strolled hand-in-hand along a Loja street.  It was a sunny August afternoon…the beginning of our second year in Ecuador. We were both feeling more settled and seasoned. Bill had new goals for his Spanish language study and I was going to write. We anticipated exploring yet undiscovered parts of the country together in the coming months.

Then in early September came a phone call that every parent dreads...our son Owen was struggling with some serious growing pains in Texas, where he had just begun his second year at a Bible institute. I flew up to be with him the next day and Bill followed a week later. 

Owen came through the crisis a stronger and wiser person. He has returned to Colorado, where he is working and thriving. But marital harmony was the casualty in the whole business...not uncommon where conflicts over the perceived needs of children are concerned. 

So my beloved Bill remains in Colorado for now, and I am alone in Loja. He needs some space; I need to learn deeper lessons about the truth that I cannot fix everything. I'm also learning that I can be alone in Ecuador and experience joy! But that learning has come through pain.

Some insights came to me recently while reading the story of a young Chinese woman--Fang Hui--who became the first person to ride a bicycle "for thirteen hundred miles over one of China's worst roads, a sawtooth of rock tracks and mountain passes which reach altitudes above 15,000 feet." One of the chroniclers of her experience, Fred Strebeigh, writes that "Not just the road's pain but also its loneliness changed Fang Hui." She came to appreciate in new ways the beauty of human interactions, which were with strangers who reached out to her. "When I came back, people all said I had changed," she said, "Now I can find something new in every day."

I've made a new walking loop along the river behind our apartment. Sometimes I sit on the riverbank and just listen to the sounds of the water. I enjoy longer interactions with my favorite "donitas" (women vendors) at the market. A few days ago a stranger I encountered on one of my walks--a woman about my age--took time to ask about my life and led me on a short detour to introduce me to her sister.

Our several Ecuadorean friends are compassionate and understanding about our situation. They have shared much with me...meals and prayers and tears and laughter. Soon, I hope, I will get back to my writing. And my heart, I trust, will learn more about love. Henri Nouwen offers this encouragement:

"The more you have loved and have allowed yourself to suffer for your love, the more you will be able to let your heart grow wider and deeper. When your love is truly giving and receiving, those whom you love will not leave your heart, even when they depart from you. The pain of rejection, absence, and death can become fruitful. As you love deeply the ground of your heart will be broken more and more, but you will rejoice in the abundance of the fruit."

The diplodenia plant thrives on the terrace…my morning view to the Andes