A New Creation

Lord,
Thank You for
A peaceful resolution.
An acceptable solution.
It's okay. I'm okay. Really.

:)

I hate confrontation.
I hate disagreeing, feeling contrary,
Being difficult, being conflicted.
I would rather swallow my pride -
My sense of right and wrong -
My dignity as a human being -
Than to fight with a loved one.
I hate it all because I remember...

It would go down something like this:
Mommie would get into a fight
That was beyond her ability to control or process.
She'd lock herself away in her bedroom
With a bottle of stomach pills and Valium
In an attempt to recuperate,
To still her frayed nerves
And coax herself out of
The fit she had worked herself into.
She wouldn't eat,
Just emerge for the occasional bathroom break.
This could go on for a day or two.

I remember sneaking open the bedroom door,
Standing in the dark,
And listening for motion or breath,
So afraid that this was it,
I had brought on the stomach bout,
Or heart attack, or nervous breakdown, or stroke
That would incapacitate her.
I remember sneaking the door shut,
Going back into my room,
And lying there,
Often beyond the point of crying.
I would read, or sleep,
Or try talking to You,
But always I would wonder
How the confrontation
Could transform into this.
I would swear up and down,
That I would learn not to aggravate her
Like that again.

How many fights
Did she have with Daddy
Because she caught him in a lie?
I would think to myself,
"He wouldn't lie to you,
If he wasn't afraid of how you'd react."
I never said that, of course.

I have witnessed a similar strain of self-implosion
In my too-tightly-wound sister.
I think she has seen it too,
Because we've joked about it,
And she seems less wound now
Than she ever has before.

Still,
I watch and wait,
Wondering,
Fearful of being the one
To set her off.

Ma,
I love you to the point
Of hardly being able to breathe
As I write this,
But
How many conversations
Did we not have
Because I was afraid of the impact
That my revealing myself to you
Would have on you?
How many times
Did I try to hide things from you
For fear of having to weather
Another of your bouts?
You discovered much of what I concealed,
But not everything.

No, not everything.

My M.O.
Was like Daddy's -
Lie, pray you're not caught,
And if you are,
Duck and run.

How can a person
Live like that,
Beneath layers and layers
Of lies, deceits,
And carefully constructed masks,
Designed to keep people
At arm's length...

The memories of
Former modes of existence
Crept into me just the other night.
I was standing in Adalheid's kitchen,
And she was sitting in front of me,
And I could feel myself pulling away,
Not wanting her near me,
Withdrawing,
For fear of hurting her,
Or being hurt by her.
I went home, was doing dishes,
When suddenly
I remembered a scripture...

"So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift." *

"Really, God?"
Annoyed, I threw the dishes down.
"REALLY?"

I took this as a sign,
Direction from You.

I went back to her house.
We had coffee.
We spoke about the point of contention.
We found a solution
Everyone could live with.
No drama.
No extended, excessive anger.
No screaming.
No destruction, self or otherwise
No guilt.
No brooding.

Later on,
I thought about another scripture:**

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

Really, Lord?
Brand new?
Sloughing off all the old crap -
All the running away
And withdrawing into myself
And lying and deceit
And telling people what I think they want to hear -
Leaving all that behind
To become...
What exactly?

It is a half-question,
Half-wondering daydream
That hovers in the air
Between You and I...

* Matthew 5:23, 24

**2 Corinthians 5:17