Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Liminal fortitude? 5

Feelings of which I was well aware, but which, for a long time, had not fully risen to the surface, were unknowingly reached for and touched during a conversation at the home where Hope’s family member now lives. From my first visit there, I have been blessed by the opportunity to have this contact, and by the possibility of continued meaningful contact and conversation in the future. 

During our conversation, a lady (Ella) came towards us and stood right in front of us, as though wanting to get past, into the small empty space in the corner behind us. I did not know that she cannot see well, and had thought she wanted to get to something in the corner of the room. Being aware of her poor sight, however, Hope knew she was not where she thought she was, nor where she wanted to be; she was not heading towards whatever she sought, nor to a place where she thought she might find it. Her compass was reset by explaining where she was, and by directing her into the main part of the room once more.

As a random moment in the day-to-day happenings of any place where people need ongoing support, it was merely one of many, and I would have had no reason to recall it. But I had much to occupy my mind as a result of some of the things said to me during our conversation, and I had to deal with particular thoughts and feelings into which Hope had probed with one of her questions. 
Belief has its consequences, and my own belief that she had been guided to ask her question, led me to feel that it had been raised, in some way, for both of us; and the consequence of that is that I also have to believe that I have something to bring to her situation, just as she has something for mine. I am certain of the latter, but doubtful and vulnerable with regard to my own potential ability to contribute. I am not prepared to consider the only alternative I can think of: – that it was for my benefit alone. If that was the case, then it is far too close to an unforgettable provision God made for me once before; not that there was any part of that which I shall ever recall with anything other than thanksgiving and astonishingly life-changing memories, but the possibility of such provision being made for me again is frightening, because it could only mean that something is going to change: perhaps as drastically as it did before. That possibility is something that excites me, but, at the same time it terrifies me. There are too many reasons for me not to let myself go. That thought also worries me; I am sure it is what I thought before I disintegrated last time.

Though voiced (I believe) merely as a friendly enquiry, my experience of Hope’s question was as an accurate probing, and I had to move beyond the disturbance it stirred within me  before I could focus fully on something else she had said: important words that my feelings were masking from further thought. She had spoken of a door being closed, or having been closed, in front of herself and Wisdom, with whom I had also spoken at that same meeting a year earlier.
I find something disconcerting in the very idea of both of them, not just individually, but in the close fellowship they share, feeling as though a door has closed before them. It troubles me. My immediate reaction was that nothing should feel like that for either of them, but by the time I was engrossed in writing to them, on Maundy Thursday (a letter which was not sent), I had begun to see things differently. I was no longer troubled, but remained concerned; and, through being unable to lay my concern aside, I felt, and continue to feel, involved.
Allowing myself to continue feeling that I was involved was presumptuous of me, though I also felt that Hope had mentioned the closed door for a reason; and I would certainly not allow something of some importance to her to simply be blown away as mere chaff. The fact that I have, nevertheless, given voice to that feeling of involvement, reinforces my belief that some of her words had begun to tug at the cords which keep me securely bound within my own comfortable anonymity; and I find myself wanting to suggest to them both, that they also may need to see things differently.

My altered viewpoint was prompted, in part at least, by thoughts of Ella getting lost right in front of us during our conversation.

About Me

Who I am should be, and should remain, of little consequence to you. Who you are is what matters; who you are meant to be is what should matter most to you. In coming closer to my own true self, I have gradually been filled with the near inexpressible: I have simply become "brim full", and my words to you are drawn from those uttered within myself, as part of an undeniable overflowing that brings a smile to my every dusk, and to my every new dawn.
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