There’s a Plank in My Eye

For my entire adult life, it seems, I have held nothing but disdain for my mother’s and father’s parents and siblings for abandoning them when my mother’s schizophrenia erupted, their marriage fell apart, and her life (as she idealized it) was taken from her.

My mother’s family abandoned her innocently and geographically very smoothly because we lived in LA, and most of them lived in Minnesota. Unforgivably, they abandoned her emotionally…left her hanging…only to be dealt with by my completely ignorant (of how to deal with anything less than a ‘perfect’ wife) fearful (read: full-of-fear) father, who escaped further into alcoholism. So, he abandoned her, too. Another story, another time.

My father’s family, who lived kind of all over the country, mainly was centered in Oregon. They were better candidates to extend a helping hand chiefly because they were at least on the right coastline, and secondarily, it wasn’t their embarrassment. They could have had an excuse for caring/helping. After all they only were related to my mom by marriage and so therefore were not tainted with the most dreadful of the dreaded…the worst of the worst…the most clandestine and unacceptable illnesses: mental illness. Even so, the situation was too icky and sticky for them, I am sure of it. So the emotional abandonment was a given.

Even now when my sister talks about my maternal grandmother with stars in her eyes, I feel nauseous, because that woman – my grandma K – is now and has always been dead to me, and I have hated her for so long for the way in which she didn’t treat my mom: didn’t come out and help when she was diagnosed, didn’t stay and help with the kids, didn’t kick my dad in the butt for being such an idiot; didn’t, didn’t, didn’t. I just cannot imagine not doing everything in my power to help if one of my children and five of my grandkids were going through such an awful ordeal. Nor could I (in reference to my parents' siblings) imagine not reaching out to a niece if I had a sister who was hospitalized for schizophrenia and whose marriage was falling between the fingers of a gallivanting alcoholic.

I don’t stand on a soap box and shout to the roof tops or anything like that. But I am quick to disregard any nice things said about my mom’s or dad’s families. I barely knew them, and they rarely bothered with me. I am quick to point out the 'splinter' in their eyes of the way they took the easy road of inaction with my mom, even though the whole season is long past.

Well, guess who has a completely estranged brother who went homeless at a young age and was diagnosed with a mental illness? Me. He went homeless as a result of being separated from all of us emotionally. We all followed our dad’s cues of splitting him off from the pack of us. He had nowhere to turn but was only driven by his will to prove my dad wrong: that he could make it on his own. When he failed, he went in various directions but eventually ended up on the streets. What streets? I don’t know. I never wanted to know.

He is now 50…will be 51 in 2009, and I still don’t know him. I have never asked for his forgiveness for my indignation, ignorance, arrogance, and well, you name it. I only tolerated him, watched my other sisters discipline him, ‘deal’ with him, at least to do what the season called for in the name of being his sisters. But worse than any type of support is no support; which is what I offered…nothing. A void.

So much is water under the bridge. But these few things will always distill: he is my brother and I need him to know that I love him, I need him to know that I am so sorry for fearing to know him, not reaching out to help him in his desperate times when -especially when- I was equipped to do so, not stepping up, not being present, not letting him know he had a family, not, not, not…

Before I again attempt to disregard my parents’ relatives, I need to look at my big brother’s little sister: ME.

My inaction related to my brother is the plank in my eye.

MT. 7:3 lives in all our lives.

The Cross

There is nothing in life that is not already experienced in the Bible. Nothing. You can always find someone who is going through the same thing you are.

How cool is it that a prophet hundreds of years ago went through the same feelings and felt the same pain I feel today?

I just went through a season that made me feel how an ancient prophet felt when his public relationship with God separated him from the people he loved. I have written his conversation with God below, and (in parentheses), I have written how it relates to me…

“When your words came, I ate them; (means: I can’t get enough of what I am reading in the Bible)

They were my joy and my heart’s delight, (means: some of the stuff I read touches me so deeply)

For I bear your name, o Lord God Almighty. (Means: I feel you are inscribed on my soul and DNA and people see me immediately as a believer, and I take joy in that…finally.)

I never sat in the company of revelers, I never made merry with them. (Means: I separated myself from scoffers, non-believers, and skeptics, I stopped partying with people who I thought were superficial…but they are also my friends.)

I sat alone because your hand was on me (Means: I chose to do that out of respect for our relationship, because I felt blessed by you.)

And you filled me with indignation. (Means: But then I felt hurt and lonely because my friends learned to leave me out, and alienate me…and only come to me when they needed a token Christian POV. I mourned the loss of friend affirmation, and I blamed you – and I mourned the loss of my relationships, crying, and full of self pity.)

Why is my pain unending and my wound grievous and incurable?” (Means: I didn’t understand why I was in so much pain and so deeply hurt at the loss of their validation/affirmation.)

Then I found hope and comfort in these words from God in response to the prophet,

“If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me; (means: I am here to make you whole again, but you need to look at yourself and realize I am not to blame. You are looking in the wrong place for the love, affirmation and validation you desire. I have never stopped loving you and supporting you. Blaming me is hurtful, and in blaming me you ARE alone.)

If you utter worthy, not worthless words, you will be my spokesman. (Means: Don’t sit there and talk about me and your experience with me and expect people to be interested... Simply be your authentic self - - grounded in me and your words will speak to the hearts of your friends, and they will see me in you.)

Let this people turn to you but you must not turn to them. (Means: You are fed by me so that you can feed them. Don’t seek to be fed by your earthly relationships. You do not NEED it from anyone but me.)

I will make you a wall to this people, a fortified city of bronze (means: I will build you up..make you strong.)

They will fight against you but will not over come you, (means: when you do hang out with your friends --who I love by the way-- who are scoffers, non-believers, and skeptics, your stance will not be shaken; your heart will determine your actions and words: pure, succinct, loving and true)

For I am with you to rescue and save you.” (Means: because I will give you the words and wisdom for all your relationships)

I felt lonely because I was looking for approval and acceptance from earth, when all the while God was pointing out, “when people turn to YOU, you need to turn to ME, your VALUE is measured by me not the people around you.”

God will feed me (vertical) and I will feed others (across: A Cross).