I haven’t understood this – as much as I have during this past year: I’ve bitten into Its wood, Its Bleed. Its brutal honesty.
How do I identify with It’s utter ‘Insanity‘..
Why did the Christ do what He did, how does It help Humans?
When you break thresholds of pain, there is no pretence: Here you might forget what you knew & be provoked enough to see the Unseen:
~(Rejection is one of the Experiences one might process here,
~ Severance from human praise/ recognition.
~Acquired values re- group.
~When all is shredded, stripped naked, the human spirit is truly alone with his/ her source. Here there is no ‘I’ except in Its best possible way.
~Here, is ‘abandonment’. Buddha tried it, our wise men and sadhus go to the mountains, some sit years under a tree, in cave, for that ‘enlightenment’). ~When all human support is withdrawn, all expectation, one is free. Freed.
This takes you to another Place: some have names for it:
~A place of Quiet, where human standards/ learned behaviour/symptoms of dis-ease cease to control you: this is a new Place. We aren’t familiar with Its one Event: Friendship with the Invisible Friend.
♡ This is a zone where pain is Highest Common Factor; one thanks it for bringing them here.
This ‘here’ begins to re-arrange one’s own personal rules:
◇ You stand unafraid of ‘Alone’; free of human bondage, from Conditions required to be Happy. Happy is a 1% of This. (Wounds lose their power over you: you stop chewing on them).
◇You heal. Your scar makes you a new you: gravity isn’t existent in your dreams, your prayers. Nor human embrace/ respect. You transform.
◇You experience Beauty, Love. Acceptance. Courtesy to each other, unconditional of returns.
Christ of the Cross is more than printed religion. His Cross is an impossible to fully comprehend just yet un- negotiable symbol of the power of emotional (often physical) healing.
- It changes the soul of your fibre, It bares to you your neighbours‘ soul, as your priority.
- It smashes ego, but elevates respect for even you.
- It raises the bar on compassion, It bends your nature to forgive; It shows you how negating pride is, how devastating to your purpose, & how lust wipes out life.
- It exposes devices of Fear.
The Person of the Cross takes my itinerary: re- routes cowardly escape plans, away from self absorption/ destruction.
♡ It is unafraid of ‘loneliness’. It needs that space for progress.
- I do not need my burden of being right all the time. I am a learner.
- I appreciate the struggles of humanity/ blest by fellow-creations. Gratitude begins. It is a river of music and joy, of Forgiveness and lack of self adoration.
- I look outward, I look within. It takes a certain recklessness to cut umbilical chords of acquired selfishness..
run barefoot through it, sing, worship, be all I was meant to be, whipped of discourtesy to the kingdom of God within us each, for free.
- Here, I taste a new thing, a certain change of needs. The taste of dying selfishness, a resurrection of new eyes, looking away from dead habits.
- And this: I see my heart, my core. There is a lot of condemnation. It is the worst kind of ‘nation’, the worst virus. I must shed that snakeskin, & forgive wasted time in order to forgive/ bless anything else.
All of this, courtesy of the Cross.
There’s more, a Designer more. Your prints differ from mine. We are nothing, and everything. Let’s not underestimate each others power in this life. You have my respect, I love you anew: you …flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.
I don’t understand much, but my iris and iota are changing. Our blood, our DNA, are transient gifts, for specific use. I don’t want to miss a thing about this existence, nor misunderstand a single experience. This isn’t about my portfolio, my pitch, my bacteria, my journey is perhaps just an invisible weave in the tapestry of you.
We don’t have to understand flowers and bees and the generation of birds and black holes, or meteors flying around @ 20,000kms / minute? to let out the miracle of healing:
let it out of human-made cages, and let our songs sing,
Or let that song break our acres of deafness…
Or blindness. Have you watched a blind person listen to a song? Or a deaf person lip read? Or a lame one watch others’ running feet?
Sometimes we lose a little to access Treasures hidden in dark places. We are each others’ at the Cross. I went there to complain, and He points me to my brother, my sister: their shadow is my face.
I do not even want to understand it, it is complicated and not ‘nice’: if someone does understand it all then it’s not all they’ve seen. Here we must cling to no shame, or pretence : I understand how little I like the way Christ loves everyone equally.
Ugh, the Paradox of True Love:
♡ It provokes hate, because mankind lives to love self. If we worship anything, it is mostly a method to gain favour in the eyes of gods of wealth and superiority.
The Cross’s two beams intersect at the crux of the need for love. I went there for comfort, and He asks that we comfort one another. That’s why the Cross is hated. Misunderstood. Read as a symbol of weakness. Try forgiving/ love….when your thresholds of pain are at break neck maximum.
I know, tough. We lack that genre of maddening courtesy. We try, we stare.
His eyes were closed- ofcourse, what’d I expect, Joh was born blind, though Doc Parin (name changed) was looking at him, as if with a search light right to the brain. Then he scrutinised us carefully in that quiet room with nice vase and air conditioning. Warm August, palm tree in his window, fine scent of pine floor wash.
Our son Johann was at his worst: post seizure drug side-effects weren’t pretty. I’ve written about this, but not in detail. Details that will forever remind me of that Other Presence in the room besides the girls, my husband, son Joh, doc and me.
“So, Johann. You’re a …musician I see. Play the violin?” His voice was flat smooth butter on crisp toast.
Neuro had referred us here to Psychiatry, really?!
What a rollercoaster of a year it’d been: series of Docs at Neuro centre, trial medications;
over this past year our gentle sweet tempered 18 year old had turned into a harsh, aggressive stranger. There were scratches and bites, rage and chaos.
“What’s your favourite musical piece then?” Doc was friendly, but I cringed. What was expected here...Bach?
We’d been out since 6 am to beat rush hour traffic to St.J’s. Joh hated hospitals, we told him we were going to a new Restaurant. (The Cafe there did have some nice rolls though😃). Now knowing we were here had infuriated him further, not to mention all that medication he was on.
Joh sank his forehead on the table.
I felt a dark thick wave hover over my temples, as weariness began to overwhelm me-
weary sick of medications that hurt our kid, of people who tried to assess our personalities as a family, of being judged and stared at. Joh was our golden boy, the girls couldn’t function without him. He had a way with words and humor; knew how to keep guests entertained, sang like an angel, played at least 3 instruments. After the seizures suddenly began last year, his voice had begun to give, along with tremors and sweats. Repetitive words, noises, sudden fury, dearest Lord… help?
Doc P. was gazing at some spot over our heads, his face a melting pot of pity and professional sorrow;
that big black wave of depression over head now began to crackle crash, I felt the earth below me shift and heave. Joh had been featured in gigs- with a band, solo, he was a force to reckon with. Was pitch perfect, could call out names of chords, tuned instruments, jammed with some of the city’s best… now a mass of nerves, he yawned hard and flung at a stack of files. Doc sighed….
my husband Jeff put an arm around Joh, the girls made the soft sounds they make when they are cheerleading him. I tried to think of something but all I could do was cry tearless inside, diving into a depth away from the black negativity, I couldn’t breathe ….
Joh straightens and says in clear tones, “Reckless Love. That’s my favourite one.”
“What violin piece is that? Never heard of it.”
“It’s my favourite…”
“You play it on the violin…?!”
Before I could exhale, the Lyrics lifted me over and above the thing trying to destroy peace…
“Before I spoke a word, You were singing over me
You have been so, so good to me
Before I took a breath, You breathed Your life in me
You have been so, so kind to me, Oh, the 1, never-ending, reckless love of God
Oh, it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine
I couldn’t earn it, and I don’t deserve it, still, You give Yourself away
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God, yeah…” (Kory Asbury)
I could write on and on.
Joh is 90% better. Doc’s been steadily knocking off 3… no 4 drugs that weren’t supposed to be given to him, while now introducing a new one. Theres deadly withdrawal too we deal with. It’s a tough 24 hrs/ day, often every minute we take a new risk. Triggers must be watched. Tempers, language flies, we all host series of bruises in various tones of healing.
Tonight at prayers, Joh sang Reckless Love again, and before I say another word, I must say how this has changed me, to know He breathes over us, over and over, realtime recklessly, in love pursuing us, till we overwhelm the thing that tries overwhelm us.
Life’s getting steadily more beautiful. We thoroughly relish silent pauses, hands are held, faces hugged. Sweet Jesu what a wonder You are, how precious this life is, in its healing stages too. What heights and depths here we’d never have sampled if not for these days. Before we forget, I need to put it all down: the fabulous reckless love of God that holds us all close, no matter how unchartered the course. More than physical, it’s the spirit of man that yearns the presence of God.
I’ve exceeded my 5 mins Kate Motaung of FMF writers, but am grateful to you all for Prompts that wring out these precious details, for the widening circle of friends who make life a blessed experience to share. God bless you all, and precious ones who take the time here to read/ comment. Stay blest.
Oh thrilled to have found a favourite happy place in my own world of shadows and valleys of doubt. Here I find not just beauty and reality but a peace that comes from knowing we are pilgrims in an earth that will fade away before we see that Perfect Light of Christ. Lorraine, thankyou for allowing me to post your work here. Stay blest beautiful one.
“And let perpetual light shine on them,”
Those words I heard today,
Not expecting them to come,
Quite suddenly they pierced the air,
I raised my head,
Looking to the heavens
As if to take in all my memories,
The joy, the pain, the laughter
Suddenly all were one,
Joined together seamlessly,
Chickens, corn and sandpits
Apples, nuts and tractors in the fields,
Starry nights that made me ask
“Where is God?”
And in my child’s mind’s eye
I saw Him beyond the stars
Swathed in mystery
Here, in the evening of my life
I sat, re-connecting with my past
And all of those who went before me,
On them and on all my memories the words did fall,
“And let perpetual light shine on them….”
Hello and welcome to my site.
My name is Lorraine Lewis, and I am blind. I became blind in 2016 as a result of a very serious and advanced cancer, and the treatment that I received.
In 2013 it was touch and go whether I lived or died, and there began the loneliest journey of my life. A true wilderness experience.
Now, I am in remission, but as well as being blind I am unable to walk, and am wheelchair bound. My husband too is wheelchair bound, and we face daily challenges just to survive. The wilderness experience, with all its difficulties and obstacles continues, but somehow or other we get through.
In the midst of all the pain and suffering, and the deepest loneliness I have ever known, I found a well deep inside me that I did not know I had until I started to drink from it. It was not a physical well, but a spiritual one, and I would like to share with you in various ways, my journey in the wilderness of cancer, blindness, and inability to walk. Along the way we may meet deep pains and sorrows, but also a depth of joy that defies everything that life has thrown at me.
Here, on this site you will find Poems and Reflections that will bring you into my world, and that may touch your world. And as we journey, we will find that even in the wilderness we can be enabled to drink from the Fountain of Life.
“Love knows no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps over obstacles penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”
Lorraine’s poems, blogs and reflections are from her wilderness experience of having cancer and being blind. “The wilderness is a very isolating and lonely place, with many hardships and sometimes seemingly insurmountable difficulties to face. It is a place of suffering and this site reflects the many struggles that any of us can undergo in our differing wilderness experiences. Despite the pains and the darkness of the wilderness and desert places, the stars can still be seen, and even deserts can bloom, so along the way, there will be gems to be found. I have chosen to use the Cross as a symbol also, because I have discovered that for me, the way through suffering was and is to be found in the Cross Although that is a Christian symbol, the wilderness or desert experience can come to any of us, no matter what faith we hold, or even if we hold none. So I hope that as Maya Angelou says, there will be no barriers, and that all of us, through our sharing, can find our way through, appreciating the gems that we find on the way whilst not denying the suffering that we go through. May we all learn to look to the stars, and see how brightly they shine out in the darkness, and take heart and courage...”
Thank you Lorraine, oneday we will meet, if not in this life in the next, when you and precious people like our son will see not just all our faces but His…
where the rest of humanity too will see what we never could not before, blinded by the nether lights of human comprehension. Oneday we will see through that dark glass, face to Face.
Here’s another one I love of Blindzanygirls’ work, oh every one of them leaves footprints of a thing I’m learning to hold….GRACE.
Uncanny: last year we were at this 👆 place like at this👇 photograph, courtesy Rochelle Wisoff- Fields, Friday Fictioneers. Thankyou! I needed a Reminder…
2019, early summer.
The bio-dome hosted hundreds of butterfly …our 18 year old blind Joh was at peace, no aggression. We weren’t worrying about the things he couldn’t see, just grateful that his beautiful smile was back in this quiet place lush with flora. Post seizure meds’ aggression had reared its ugly head the past months, holding our gentle perfect son hostage.
Today life is getting better: piecing back together under a Force that held us. Negativity fades like long shadows of dusk as I look at Rochelle’s Prompt and the gentle Reminder that we are all still being held together …
Click HERE to read other Fictioneers’ stories.
I prayed that you would be given the gift of sight,
but God in His mercy allowed me to see His Light all around you.
Now I ask that you my child will pray too, this prayer for others: that thru’ your journey via the valley of shadows, you will leave footprints that lead another out of darkness.
Each day this prayer grows, and as it does, my eyes open to things I’ve been blind to. How we misunderstand the gifts we are given: they arrive in unusual wrap and bows, sparkling with the tears of heaven.
“For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but He has given us a spirit of power, love and discipline…” quote from The Bible.
I pray for you son that even if you do not see the Light in this life, you will know the Light sees you