From trying to keep up?
This is an addiction
As trying to run away
Calling in the night
Fix it or get over it!
Or did you lose it
Somewhere back there
Years before you
Took that first fall
Into icy water
What are you, and what am I? The broken model, or the sought-after model? Does it really matter?
My mother’s plunge into icy water was polio. She was 28; I was 6. She lived most of her life believing she had to demonstrate she was ‘normal.’ Whatever that meant.
Since when did it become The Rule that we must hide our broken bits? Or at least pretend they don’t matter when they do.
I broke my jaw over three years ago. Ironically, it was a gift. A dead stop I couldn’t ignore. Forced changes rescued me from a diet and lifestyle that was undermining my heart and kidney health.
But the gift sometimes feels like poison. Not poison to my body, but to my spirit and my social life. Especially when I come up against limitations.
This morning I heard a John Rutter song on public radio — “Look to the Day.” Rutter wrote the words and music at the invitation of Cancer Research UK for their Service of Thanksgiving in Ely Cathedral, 23rd September 2007. A simple song of hope and reorientation.
Somehow it got through to me. There’s more to life than continuing with things as usual. Especially when they aren’t usual, and life is short.
I found this rendition on You Tube. It’s sung from the heart by women and men who don’t speak English as their first language. I want to learn to sing like this from my heart, especially when I find myself in new or scary territory.
Praying you have a hope-filled Sabbath rest.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 31 August 2019
Image found at my.vanderbilt.edu