Imagine. Among all the different things that we experience along the journey, there are so many new people, events, and experiences which we must somehow assimilate into our daily lives, now that we have learned we must come to grips with this new reality. It can get very confusing, and more than a little intimidating along the journey.

Some things, however, are not shared by the "group". Care givers cannot share them. Neither can friends, family, loved ones, Doctors, Nurses, or social agencies mavens. Some things are very privately experienced. Many of you, who have been called upon this journey, immediately recognize some of those things. They usually are the most recent things you have come to know. But, if you take a moment to look back upon your journey, you may find there are many such "private" moments. Some of them, I have spoken of here, in this Blog. Some of them I have not, because they truly are individual. They probably apply only to me.

I hope that this journey will show you some of those things, because I think they can help you as you travel down your path through the valley. From your comments, you show me this to be true, and for that I am really grateful.

Lately, though, I have had a very personal experience which I would like to share with you.

We do ask, in many different ways, "Why me?"

I have gotten an answer to that question that is entirely personal to me. It is one dealing with my faith. I am a Christian, and I believe in a vital, living Supreme Creator I call "Dad". For many years, He has tried (mostly in vain, I might add!) to direct my path--especially as I travel on the journey through the valley.

The other day, I was sitting in my apartment, reflecting on the progress I have made through the valley. I began to notice something about the ebb and flow of the walk. It hit me, as it so often does, like the preverbial bolt.

Dad wants my attention. There is something this journey is supposed to do...for Him. It is to be really transparent, in that I am not to be seen nearly so much as He is to be seen, and (as Christians say) glorified. The most amazing parts of this journey have always been found at that one moment. You surely know it. That moment, usually at the "0430" times.

You feel utterly alone. No matter who is with you, or around you. You just get this heart-crunching awareness that this is, regardless of any words to the contrary, YOUR journey.

And, that is when Dad tends to show up, and show off. The incredible feeling of "alone-ness" is where the lesson comes to me from. At least, it did recently. Here it is. Please hold onto the bar.

There is an old saying among Christians that says "When you get to the last strand of the rope you are clinging to, that is where you will find the first strand of His garment."

Well? Why? Please just consider the question for a moment. I've already given you the answer that I found.Do you see it?

What do you do when you are utterly alone? When there is just nothing, and nobody to care, love, encourage, or support you along the journey? What's that all about, anyway?

What I learned was that it is in those times, in those drastic moments when Dad shows up. When there is no one to turn to, or cry with, or seek help or comfort from, Dad is there. David knew it. His cries to the Lord always tell us (Psalms) that in his moments of quiet desperation and loneliness, God showed up. And, we surely know that He showed off.

That's what, I think, gave David some of his deepest convictions of his faith. The things that Dad did, when there was not one other soul left, added to his faith in such measure that he could pen the words of the 23rd Psalm. You know, that Psalm comes as a result of the 22nd Psalm, when David has found himself cowering in a cave to avoid his enemies. People seldom read them together. That's too bad.

When I am alone, Dad provides so far beyond my greatest need that it deepens my faith in Him. I am a great sinner. He is a great Savior. When there is no place else to turn, you see, there is no distraction possible. I can talk with Him--and I can seriously listen to Him. I can find my way back to Him in those times. The pain is there, and so is the fear. But, I know I need not speak them. In the first place, I cannot. In the second place, He knows them better than I. He knows my heart. But you see, Dad knows my heart so very much better than I possibly could that sometimes the most important thing becomes the most difficult thing to remember. He created my heart. What seems so difficult or confusing to me is simple for Him. He can straighten out deceptive thinking, sinful error, or pride with just a little bit of MY undivided attention. Life, as we have developed it, seems sometimes to be contrived only for distraction. I personally believe this to be completely true.

But, when there is no one...well, then we think differently, don't we? Must we really get to that moment before we can listen, and hear Him?
No, we just choose to. It's a "people thing--if you've got a belly button, you do it, too. How wonderful it is to run to His arms, and know that the Creator of the entire Universe would stop his every work just to hold His kid. Imagine.

When that happens, no journey is too long, or too difficult. There is no problem He doesn't understand. There is no condition He cannot make better for His kid. There is no human who can do that, not even the love of your life. He will send someone, or create a situation that you will call "good luck". He will bring His blessings to His kids, no matter what! Sometimes blessings come because we ask. But, sometimes, Dad just loves me so very much that He can't help Himself, and He pours out blessings so rich that we can't hold them all.

Sometimes, we only permit that when we have no other distractions. These moments do not make the journey better, or easier. They just make the journey, and all of life, worth it. No matter what.

When all this began, back in October of 2006, I had some of those moments. In April of this year, when I lost the use of my legs, I had a few more. When the journey decided to slap me in the face just to remind me of my circumstance, my Dad showed up, and showed off. Where Ole Ugly tried to slap me down, Dad wrapped me in His loving arms and lifted me up. Not beyond or away from the Journey, just enough to get my balance back. He put my feet back on the path. It took a while.

But, I'm writing this, aren't I? I'm still here. I'm still on the same journey. Life beat me down, and my Dad, my loving Father, lifted me back up as only He could. And, that's the point of the lesson. When you have no one, you have Him.

I hope I can remember that truth more often. I am trying to, anyway. I hope you will to, because it is perhaps the most important lesson on the journey--no matter what.

I am still, and hope always to be,

In His Care,


Budroe


 

Friends:

Nearly two ago now, an item "hit the wires" concerning me. In all that time, I have said nothing, because I felt there was nothing to say. Since returning to Writing.com, I have learned in a personal way that many persons other than myself were negatively affected by that item. While I believe the damage done is the responsibility of the person who write that item (and forever will), I do have something to say to those people. Not because I feel it necessary to defend myself. I want to say something to them because my name, my honor, and my integrity require a response.

Today, I have made public for WDC that response. It is the only response I will make. I did NOT write it to renew old arguments or hurts. So far as I am concerned it is, for better or worse, a "done deal". It is over. It is not over because someone else says so. It is over because I say so. That's only fair. If you have an interest in it, you can find it here:Saying Goodbye--to a Dream? .

It is written to and for the staff, faculty, students, members and friends of the now defunct A-1 Writing Academy. I needed to say it, and they have the right to hear it.

For those not a part of it, who felt it necessary to find a side to be on, I can only say that you have made your choices. May you find peace in them.

I am back, and I have moved on. Yet, I remain,

In His Care,

Budroe