The Ascent of a Raconteur

Come out of sadness

From wherever you've been

Come broken hearted

Let rescue begin

Come find your mercy…

Oh wanderer come home

You're not too far

So lay down your hurt

Lay down your heart

Come as you are…

David Crowder - Come As You Are 

I have stopped counting…the seconds, minutes and days since time splintered into a thousand shards of grief, aimed at a mother’s heart. This week, when loss came knocking on my door, it was stopped in it tracks and greeted with something long awakened in me…SURVIVAL. 

Back then, I was unacquainted with the levels of bereavement I would be spun thru… much like a pinball sporadically whizzing through a compact space, and bouncing off the flippers…I found myself on a journey of self-discovery and finally acceptance. 

As I began to write my post, a Sister by faith sent me the lyrics to Crowder's song, which I have included parts of. Leanna shared how last Sunday they had sang it in worship and she thought of me. Her sharing was also paired with the kindness of her continual prayers of healing for me, which I am grateful for!

With the reel of memories I have acquired since last year, I can attest to the layering of prayers I received by those I know and by the continual stream of strangers, where my name was on their lips. 

Despite setbacks of poor health, financial strain and loss of my rental suite; when the invisible hands of the enemy tried pushing me out the window, I dug my hands deeper into the dirt. Clinging to the roots now unearthed, I placed my faith into the particles of dirt. With every rock put before me, I let God go underground, in order to rise up on His foundation. 

Being stripped down to literally nothing, made me feel alone yet more connected to Jesus … and in the end; His will to help me carry on, outweighed the pain.

Along every curve in the road, I put into my journal, the lessons I was incurring. One of them was to not spend my whole existence in the pursuit of things that will expire and fade with time.

When I had to bid farewell to my transportation, I admittedly grumbled over the demise of my vehicle and still having to pay a mechanics bill on a car, no longer in my possession. The heaven’s soon placed upon me the reality of how trivial my griping was. 

Awhile back, I was house sitting. I turned the radio to Praise 106.5. Over the years, music on this station has been a lifeline for my worries, sorrow and times of adversity. I love the raconteur that plays on in between Mercy Me and Natalie Grant. This day, a story came on about a pregnant woman who ended up having a miscarriage at late term. She lived in the United States. Since she had no medical coverage, she was bound to pay on a child that no longer existed! I began to weep. I thought about every time she had to give money on the bill…the sheer pain of her heart breaking loss; was an agonizing reminder she was making payments, on her deceased baby. 

  

This struck me with its meaning and shortly after; I made my way on the bus to the mechanic shop and paid more money on my car bill.

This year of 2017 has been a riptide of events; an intermittent series of paradoxes that saw me go from sleeping in the confines of my 91’ Oldsmobile to care-taking a three level show home, complete with immaculate, prized gardens. Alternating from sleeping in a tent nestled in a campsite was hospital visits for panic attacks and edema, where my legs swelled in size. 

Along with my trials, was the discovery of the grace bestowed upon me, by strangers. I learned to let go of pride and accept food, groceries and monetary gifts. The flip-side of this, was the years I have spent, helping those in need. I had become a Nomad; with my bigger stuff put into storage, the rest of my belongings were stuffed into purple suitcases, also given to me as a present. My mailbox- the only thing I have maintained the same- became a portal of care packages and gift certificates. In between my car camping, tent living and house/pet sitting, I have bounced around 14 different places throughout the year. 

The miracle in all of this, are the beautiful friendships I have formed. Even when I found seasonal work and established some resemblance of “normality,” those who had given me a hand to hold, remained by my side. 

I am the first to admit that loving me encompasses stepping up to the plate. I speak my mind and strongly for those underdogs; the ones whose liberty has been removed, without their consent. For me, I would rather sail into the firestorms of life, while grasping every ounce of spark that comes my way. 

As I read my Bible, the passages of heroes and villains, darkness versus light, epic battles and love affairs, death and disease, compounded with the ultimate sacrifice of endearing life for the eternal kingdom; makes me realize the warrior in me will continue to rise up. I can look at where I am and see those who are standing right along with me; my army of supporters has never been more tenacious! 

During this year of healing and learning, I made a decision to let someone else into my scarred heart. This brief interlude was me ‘testing the waters’ and thankful I did! This person gave me a million reasons to turn to prayer, as I came to stand my ground; I discovered he was everything I did not want in my life…as I kicked into fourth gear, he did not even see the dust… as I was long moved on.

Turning to scripture, while reading books such as “Boundaries” and “Know Your Enemy,” I understand I need to let God place the man who will come into my life and share in the passion of our faith together. I am hopeful, as five years have come to pass, since I last gave my golden heart away. The girl I was then evolved into the woman I now celebrate. 

In a week, I will recognize another day in my life, where a soul rose heavenward. On a December afternoon when I was marked by tragedy, I came to discover through my grief journey that I am no longer defined by death. Now, there is a noticeable change. One where faithfulness in walking with my Heavenly Father–honours the passing of her life – that will someday occur with my very own. 

In looking through my files, I found a picture of my daughter Shayla and in an instant, understood the significance. She is facing forward; gazing off into a serene, winter, wonderland. This photograph captures my ‘advancement’ in the realm of loss. For, I too am looking forward, the past year behind me…in awe of what is ahead… full of divine mystery.

By TL Alton