Some Passion for You

Passion stems from the Latin work pati, meaning “to suffer.” The stem pass comes from the word passive meaning “capable of suffering.” Pass was coined in the early 16th century to denote “the suffering of Christ on the cross.” English also acquired the word through the Old French word passion meaning “strength of feeling.” This has been transferred in our modern times to denote sexual attraction and anger.  (From this website.)

I was watching an interview of actor Jim Caviezel who portrayed Jesus Christ in Mel Gibson’s movie Passion of the Christ.  Jim has a powerful testimony of the physical trauma he endured during the making of that film.  The movie came out in 2004 when I was in the beginning stages of divorce after my former spouse left me.  I was devastated.  Also within that year my grandmother and youngest brother had died, I lost my home, I had to change churches to begin the healing process (distancing me from my support system), my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer and underwent a serious surgery out of State, I lost my job, and had to store my things in 5 places while I began the first of what would become 5 moves of residence.  One of these was after a condo fire which displaced me into a temporary apartment with only the clothes on my back for a time.  Talk about suffering!  Still this was nothing compared to what my Lord had suffered on the cross for my salvation.  But I tell you, I simply could not watch that movie during that time in my life.  I was too traumatized.  It would just be too painful on too many levels.

This week marks the 5-year anniversary of when I first started having wretched seizure attack episodes on a daily basis.  I had gotten sick with a biotoxin illness for 6 months before then when an “alternative” treatment modality triggered the onset of seizures.  (These continued today although gratefully the pattern is changing some again and this could become a good thing.)  The suffering with these often violent convulsions has been tremendous.  Never would I have imagined such a terrible, terrible illness.  (See them here.)  Even the tumultuous years around 2004 do not compare to what I have endured more recently.  Even those who agonized with me during the various aspects of the stress 13 years ago do not compare to what my beloved husband Steve has endured with me during this illness.  Suffering of this magnitude brings hell to earth for a part of every day.

There are other periods of time that I would characterize as suffering:  the incidents of abuse in my childhood.  Some were sexual, others physical beatings, and several involved satanic rituals.  All were profoundly damaging and required years of help, love, and the healing grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ to overcome.  The abuse kept my mind, body, and emotions trapped in various ways for decades affecting my ability to function as an adult woman.  Somehow I did find my way out when I found Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior; eventually the pain, the “suffering” largely went away.  Self-destructive habits and negative thought processes faded.  Forgiveness and healing took its place.  I became more whole, interestingly surging even now to a new level of peace as the seizure attacks lessen.  Suffering from abuse no longer troubles my spirit.

The Lord doesn’t waste anything in His plan for our lives.  After 2006, I got to experience a magnificent restoration from the “years the locusts had eaten.”  (Joel 2:25) For example, the insurance settlement from the condo fire (where I was renting an apartment) ended up paying for beautiful décor in a condo of my own where I could rebuild my life as a single woman.  Flash forward to more recently and I wrote here of the blessings that have come despite enduring a serious illness including meeting all of you through this blog!  And all that childhood sorrow gave me a compassion for others that has served me well caring for others for decades as an occupational therapist.  Despite my suffering, I am grateful that my Heavenly Father and Husband has allowed me to see His hand, His plan that has masterfully created goodness from the suffering He ultimately allowed for His glory.  I now believe it was all for my good too.

unyru paper, collage, art, wall, Romans 8:38, Jermiah 29:11 Christian, artist

Collage art wall mural in the hallway of my condo with a self portrait too.

And what about the more contemporary definition the word “passion?”  The connotation of emotional, physical, sexual energy?  Let’s just say there is much in my life now to be passionate about in having a wonderful husband (my “intended beloved”) who loves the Lord and me too.  Then there’s my love of growing things in the garden (from my mom) that has kept me moving forward on my worst of days in addition to my best of days.  I love digging in the dirt!  Perhaps most importantly is my passion to champion the calling of the Holy Spirit when He compels me to:  serve someone, encourage someone, love someone, share the hope found in Jesus Christ with someone.  When I hear the call of the Holy Spirit moving me in a particular direction, I move forward with a razor-sharp focus that consumes whatever energy and resources are available to me at that moment.  Whether it is in the middle of the night making my husband’s lunch for work the next day or baking cookies (despite a terrific headache) for that service dude who is having a really, really bad day.  Me and my Lord getter done!

This I have come to know:  that if the Lord calls, He empowers us to respond.  That is what passion is all about, good or bad.  And guess what?  He made the suffering, all of it, good for us on Easter morning.  How about if we keep this in mind the next time he calls?

JJ

She remains silent

The Jane magnolia remains silent at the birth of April’s Spring

Her violet blooms resting beneath garments of fuzzy gray pods

Waiting, tempted to peek into the sunshine, then waiting some more

For emerging too soon would be to her peril and loss of beauty, my dear.

Oh if I but could rest not by angst but by design like my friend

Knowing the Divine timing and trusting therein better than I have

That loveliness would come in the fullness of my time as well

Instead of deadness, jagged edges of pain, the tazoring of my mind.

Will there come a day when I shall join you in the sunshine of morn’?

When I unfold to freedom of spirit, of movement as in song so sweet?

Where there is little thought to my comings and goings:  I will just go

Just live and give and do and think, knowing all is right with the world?

I do not think it is right that I should suffer so day in then day out

With hope only of heaven when my hopes are dashed 10,000 times and more

The seeking compels me for hours:  pouring over records, research, and facts

Only to be smashed against the wall of my limits, my fate, the unanswered prayer.

What will my own senescence bring?

There is no patience left in me to endure.

No resolve carries me through.

Tears from deep caverns gush forth . . .

But breathe I shall for time shall march forth into the Spring of each new day

Life will go on as our Lord promises His love will go with us along the way

Perhaps one day I shall “bloom where I am planted” as the ol’ poster exhorts

Ever loud, ever quiet, ever true for having stepped out in faith ever simply,

and even ever small.

JJ

 

Jane, magnolia, poetry, Christian, gardenng, Spring, pink, flower

The Struggle is Real

Wake up and wait for the tempest beast to roar

Through my head, my tender frame — ah the pain:

Will I be able to hold back the waterfall in my loins

Will my body rage with tazoring if I try to rise to soon?

Welcome to my world, my day, my nightmare as Cooper said

Alice had black eye make-up unlike the darkness behind my lids

Held so tight, squeezed closed by puppet-like strings of wrath

Taunting my resolve leaving me nowhere to turn but to His Face.

My Jesus knows torture far worse and soon we will celebrate

How He came to save us from our hell by His bodily sacrifice

His ministry when hated, limited only by the perishing of His frame

Such a witness for me, for all to keep moving forward always.

No trial shall thwart the plans made for us in the womb

When our Lord crafted our days, the ups and the deep downs too —

He grieved yet promised to walk with us and deliver us one day

So we could have hope and a reason to reach for His gift above all.

So that is where I will turn:  the Cross of my Redeemer that lives

That delivers me from the angst of life without hope for alas it does:

One day this suffering will be gone and my story will be my cross

May it bring glory to the One who opens my eyes on my bed of becoming . . .

 

. . . for my just reward, for His purposes, for trusting when the struggle is real.

JJ

cross of jesus

Gratitude for the little big things

So it’s Thanksgiving and nothing went as we had hoped: our trip to Texas to be with my hubby’s family got cancelled after my recent ER visit with severe back pain, alternate plans never materialized, and we had to cancel dinner reservations for tonight due to seizure spikes for most of the afternoon. Today is our wedding anniversary too. When I apologized for wreaking havoc on my hubby’s holiday, his response was, “well we’re saving money left and right!” And now you see who I am so thankful for this holiday.

I love you Steve.  Happy anniversary!

And Godspeed Gentle Readerfb_img_1480031316027. :J

Things come into focus

The recipe just wouldn’t do:  this brew concocted for my veins

I winced in shock when I saw the potential for disaster next week

And made the call to express my concerns, my fears in shaky voice.

The Assistant was gracious, no complaints there but what about him

Whom had not been available yet directs my care via messaging

And has way too many details engaged to respond to my simple needs?

Just to stop the seizures and minimize the suffering is all I really want

But that is the golden coin just beyond my reach now matter how long

And how far, how often, how many, how little, how far-reaching the attempts have been.

You’d think after nearly 5 years since this hell on earth began in my tender frame

That one of these brilliant folk would have figured it out by now, but NO(!), longer I wait —

And believe me I have tried, have prayed, have laid down my sword along the way too.

Nothing of  note has come to pass although the hell is generally shorter and less robust

I still live in impending doom every day, still waiting for the spike that rocks my world

And consumes me as much as it frustrates; I hold on to the moments in time I have here or there.

Someday this suffering will be over, I am assured since it was not always here

My Lord, my Savior is coming back for me and His to make all things new and right

And that includes an end to my daily trials:  oh how sweet that day will be, maybe soon!

Until then Gentle Reader, say your truth whilst asking for what you need

Let those in the know hear you and stick with those who bother to care

And one day soon, the focus will be on something else than your strife, my dear, guaranteed, guaranteed.  JJ

Ecclesiastes, 3:11, beautiful, in His time, waiting on the Lord, patience, waiting, burdens, trials, God, Lord, Jesus, trust, Christian, answers