I wrote this blog last Spring, while in the heat of the horrible moment. Devastated by an argument with my step son, I simply could not see the forest through the trees. There was never an apology rendered, but I have forgiven Bud and he knows this. I like to call this phenomena Grace-but really I just did it for myself and my husband.
Dwain, interestingly enough, has not forgiven him. Yet there have been great strides towards healing, and rather than trying to be his son’s best friend? He has risen to the challenge of being a father, i.e. no more tolerating arrogance or disrespect. I believe we are all closer as a result of his temporary insanity.
When God puts you to the test, and you pass with a combination of trusting His wisdom? Oh my dear friends, this is when the miracle happens: a peace that surpasses any understanding-inner joy and self love come out of hiding. Often, the hard part is recognizing the blessing. With practice and determination, you can take the gifts from above and pay it forward. Grace abounds, indeed.
I have been having what some would call “hearing hallucinations,” and I know they are real, as real as the grass in the yard, the puffy clouds on the horizon, and the Spring peepers who cry out their mating call at this time of year.
Okay, how do I explain the inexplicable? I’ll have to go back to the early days, circa 2013, after an incredibly stressful demolition of our church, by Christian Hypocrites who simply took over, spewed their venom and caused one of our pastors to turn to Atheism. I was distraught over what I then thought to be the end of my life as I knew it. I got sober in this chapel, every single person knew my story and they showed me love and grace, not harsh ostracism. The travesty is, we were beginning to do some amazing spiritual work……we were in sync, and you could feel the Holy Spirit-lifting us up and out of our day to day lives. And then: Kaput.
I began to experience a strange, but lovely thinning of the veil, if you will. I began finding feathers in crazy places-different colors and hues. I collected twenty of them and put them in a crystal glass. No explanation for how they came to be in the middle of my bedroom floor; no cat toys missing pieces, no feathered anything to be blunt. I did not realize they were feathers from the Angels at the time, no not until the last feather was gifted me: a large, purple beauty, somehow I knew that this would be the last one, and it was. I have brought these feathers to bedside vigils, to give others the hope of better days to come, when we are once again home, the complete and unwavering love of God, His mercy and forgiveness.
Shortly after the last feather appeared, I had been toying with the New Age. I came out of that nightmare unscathed, but now things were getting downright eerie. Five minutes before I was stalked by a half naked man, causing me horrible PTSD symptoms, I heard my angels wings. So loudly, I turned around as I expected to see a Vulture, or other huge bird looking at me. Instinctively, I knew what it was. I believe I was guided by the heavenlies that day, and I have good reason: the Conservation Officers were doing their annual trail checks that day, and I had the good fortune to run out of the woods and into the arms of the officer who took the case.
One day, I was absolutely driven to get up off my buttocks and take a picture of my back yard. It was a dreary rainy day, and there was nothing to see…..but listen to myself I did. As I brought the camera to my eyes, I saw 6 or 7 white crosses-along the garden plot. If I took the camera away? Nothing. Each time I brought that camera into focus, I saw the white crosses, and I felt protected, if not a little shaky.
Yesterday, while getting out of the shower, I heard those wings again. I knew the angels wanted me to know they were with me, which scared the bejeepers out of me. What now? Why now? I had to sit for a spell and calm myself down.
So, it is evening and my husband and I are preparing dinner.
“Honey, you know if you need to talk about the Bud (formerly known as my stepson) debacle, I know how much you’re hurting. I want you to know that I am here for you, and if you need to vent, please do so.”
What he said next was so crazy making, so vile and putrid and everything that goes along with the loss of a child.
“I text him, last week. I jacked him up and he said there will be no apology forthcoming.
No apology? That man-child stood in my garage and screamed cruel and untrue things, called me a freak, told me the whole family thought I was a freak. And, as it turned out, he was plenty pissed that I am on SSI, as “it’s not fair I have to pay for her income with my taxes.”` He was this close to hitting me and when I went to go inside, he came after me and I just waited. If he hit me, then I could go to court, get a Protection From Abuse-hey, I’ve suffered worse things, believe me.
I have made the decision that he is dead, dead to me for all intents and purposes.
You see, what seemed to irritate him most? That I had suffered CPTSD, and depression. Apparently he thinks I made it all up; that after owning my own businesses and working (often two jobs at a time) for 40 years, I just decided, as if upon whim, to close shop, be lazy and ruin my husband’s life. How could he be that cold?
And then the inevitable kick in my aching groin: “Bud will be at mom’s for Easter, with his gal pal extraordinaire, the woman who was the icing on the cupcake of his disaster, the woman who so eagerly took what was not hers, her best friend’s boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, Bud is responsible for his own actions, but being the raging narcissist that he is? He will never take accountability. He ruined his own life and he should have thought about that before he let his penis do his thinking. Sorry, I’m a bit rough around the edges today.
Father, forgive him, he knows not what he does.
She talks to angels, they call her out by her name.