Years ago I fell in love. Not with a man, but with his writings. George MacDonald and I share at least this: He too was deeply connected to the church and struggled with depression. In addition, he was a Scottish pastor, sometimes at odds with his church. He died believing himself to be a failure. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s difficult to focus.
Voices and images
clamor for my attention,
my response,
my analysis of what is beyond all reason.
I force myself to stay close to the bone, Read the rest of this entry »
I can’t hide from that all-seeing eye of God watching me day and night to make sure I’m being a good little girl. It follows me through life. Not an eye of Goodness and Mercy, but of Judgment and Contempt.
I’m lost
It’s the 1980s. I’m 40-something. I claim I’m a follower of Jesus Christ. Yet I’m lost in fear, self-contempt, confusion, a judgmental spirit, and the vain belief that I can fix other people’s lives. If only they would just listen to me! Read the rest of this entry »
I haven’t always called myself God’s beloved daughter-child. For years I wouldn’t have dared presume such a high-minded view of myself. How did this happen? And how might this help me think about what I believed when I was 11 years old?
This post is about the first question: How did this happen? The second will wait. Thanks for being patient. If I don’t address today’s topic first, I’ll end up picking my childhood theology to pieces. Read the rest of this entry »
As a child, my survival theology was short and to the point: (1) God would NEVER beat me like this, and (2) Jesus loves me no matter what, and wants to spend time with me.
My two small truths traveled well. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s the 1990s. I’m teaching a seminar on spirituality. At the beginning of the class I hand out to each participant, including me, a blank piece of paper and crayons. The assignment is simple: draw and color your childhood image of God. You have 5 minutes.
I drew and still have my image: Read the rest of this entry »
My father set out to attain one goal: to break my will. So did he? Back then I would have argued that he most certainly did NOT break my will! See how much spunk I still have in me? Just listen to the angry voices in my head! I might be sitting down on the outside, but I’M DEFINITELY STANDING UP ON THE INSIDE! Read the rest of this entry »
When did it all begin?
When did I enter your supply chain?
When did I become a commodity, a disposable object
not for sale but for use on demand,
with or without pay?
When did I become your toy
to imagine as prey,
to stalk, hunt down,
toss around and torment
with or without warning? Read the rest of this entry »
silhouetted high
atop a bare tree the dove
coos a mourning song
* * *
non-judgmental, calm, soothing
predictable, unhurried, hypnotic
soft, clear, ubiquitous
unobtrusive, gentle, alert
present, unyielding, quiet
reassuring presence of God
in, with, above, beneath, around and for
each aching, bewildered, terrified corner of our
hope-hungry world
with its everyday heartaches, pain, despair,
starvation, contempt, betrayals,
confusion and brokenness
God,
Grant us courage
to accept and to be present, quiet hope today
as one of your creatures
in just one corner of this tired old world
you still love so much.
Amen
* * * * * * *
Haiku written 24 June 2014
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 June 2014
house-bound dog peers out
at park space green trees people–
front door closed locked barred
* * * * *
I grew up with a fierce need to be right,
a heavy dose of fear and Read the rest of this entry »
Telling the Truth 