And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)
Lord...
In 2006 after our mom passed away,
I sat in the kitchen of our Gerritsen Beach family home,
And said to my sister,
"There's a $700 monthly deficit here
Between the bills and the mortgage
And what I make.
How am I supposed to make that up?"
Angrily, defiantly, she said to me,
"Well, you figure it out!"
It was a bad time.
Neither of us were thinking very clearly.
Neither of us knew what to do
With the weight of all that our mom's passing
Thrust upon us.
Forced into the unexpected role of family breadwinner,
I found myself with a mortgaged home in Gerritsen Beach,
A home that needed maintenance and repairs in Wurtsboro,
More bills than I could conceive of,
And a full-time-plus and part-time job
That still didn't financially cover it all.
For three years, I struggled vainly with the money problems.
I fell drastically behind on the mortgage payments,
And then madly scrambled to finance those payments.
No one knows the full extent I went through
To try to get that money
Except you, Lord.
The begging. The near-loan-shark transactions.
The lies and cover-ups and complete deceitfulness
I regularly and systematically engaged in while buying time.
The life insurance policy I took on myself
And then asked You to mow me down
So my sister could pay off the Brooklyn house.
All the sleepless nights.
All the crazy thoughts.
When it finally blew up,
So too did my relationship with my sister.
Already a rocky one,
This nearly demolished it altogether.
So many people weighed in with their opinions
About my trip here to New York.
Your sister is an adult, she can help herself.
She has to learn how to be independent and self-sufficient.
No one gives up weeks of their life at a time.
All true.
But -
No one knows or understands the promises I made
To parents no longer alive.
No one knows or understands the conversations I had with You
About my soul-sickness.
No one understands the knot of thoughts and emotions
Sitting at the center of my chest -
Guilt and remorse and family ties and loyalty and
"Honor thy mother and father" and
"Be reconciled to thy brother."
Who are you serving, the archer had asked me.
You don't get it, I wanted to say.
You weren't there through the years of struggle,
Through the food stamps and fighting for veteran-disability pensions,
Through the hospital stays and the home dialysis,
Through the fire of our first home in Gerritsen Beach,
And the flood that ravaged our second home in Wurtsboro,
And all the other things that happened in between and since.
We were four.
And then we were whittled to three.
And now we're just two.
And yes, it matters what happens to my sister,
No matter how spotty and checkered and messed up our relationship is
Because relationships matter eternally.
And yes, I have felt the depth of my wrongdoing
Because all I kept reviewing in my mind these past few weeks is
"If you hadn't lost the house in Brooklyn,
Your sister wouldn't be forced to move Upstate now."
What did I hope to accomplish by coming here?
Spiritually - communicating to my sister that she is not alone in the Universe
(from a human perspective).
Emotionally - propping her up so that she wouldn't disintegrate nor explode.
Mentally - helping to plan then execute the actual move.
Physically - providing the manpower to facilitate the move.
And for myself?
Peace of mind. Release from guilt.
Knowing that my sister is on a path to soundness and wholeness.
Oh Lord,
My great, gracious, God,
How completely unfathomable and mysterious and wondrous
Is the way that you have unfolded,
And continue to unfold
My life.
The sale of the house in Brooklyn
Financed the necessary repairs for the house Upstate.
Had we not sold the one,
By now we would've lost both,
The Brooklyn house to Hurricane Sandy,
And the Upstate house to a crumbling foundation.
I walked by our former house on Sunday morning,
And stared in wide-eyed horror at the collapsed fence,
The items strewn on the lawn,
The open basement door that led to the sub-street-level basement
That I had baled out on numerous, rainy occasions.
O Lord,
Be with those people who purchased our family home.
Help them recover from the devastation,
From all that they have lost.
Lord,
Thank You that we were not there.
Thank You for protecting us
In this most unexpected and convoluted of ways.
Father,
There is release at the end of this long, circuitous journey.
At last,
There is an easing of burdens,
A knowing and experiencing of Your Grace
That far outweighs all that I have felt and envisioned
These past three years.
At the end of all this,
I can feel seeds of peace and freedom
Finally flourishing...
Finally leading me to where I belong...
West... west...
The arid air and desert landscapes
Are calling me home.
"Everything happens for a reason."
Indeed, Adalheid, indeed!...
Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
I acknowledged my sin to you,
and I did not cover my iniquity;
I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,”
and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah (Psalm 32: 1a, 5)
Lord...
In 2006 after our mom passed away,
I sat in the kitchen of our Gerritsen Beach family home,
And said to my sister,
"There's a $700 monthly deficit here
Between the bills and the mortgage
And what I make.
How am I supposed to make that up?"
Angrily, defiantly, she said to me,
"Well, you figure it out!"
It was a bad time.
Neither of us were thinking very clearly.
Neither of us knew what to do
With the weight of all that our mom's passing
Thrust upon us.
Forced into the unexpected role of family breadwinner,
I found myself with a mortgaged home in Gerritsen Beach,
A home that needed maintenance and repairs in Wurtsboro,
More bills than I could conceive of,
And a full-time-plus and part-time job
That still didn't financially cover it all.
For three years, I struggled vainly with the money problems.
I fell drastically behind on the mortgage payments,
And then madly scrambled to finance those payments.
No one knows the full extent I went through
To try to get that money
Except you, Lord.
The begging. The near-loan-shark transactions.
The lies and cover-ups and complete deceitfulness
I regularly and systematically engaged in while buying time.
The life insurance policy I took on myself
And then asked You to mow me down
So my sister could pay off the Brooklyn house.
All the sleepless nights.
All the crazy thoughts.
When it finally blew up,
So too did my relationship with my sister.
Already a rocky one,
This nearly demolished it altogether.
So many people weighed in with their opinions
About my trip here to New York.
Your sister is an adult, she can help herself.
She has to learn how to be independent and self-sufficient.
No one gives up weeks of their life at a time.
All true.
But -
No one knows or understands the promises I made
To parents no longer alive.
No one knows or understands the conversations I had with You
About my soul-sickness.
No one understands the knot of thoughts and emotions
Sitting at the center of my chest -
Guilt and remorse and family ties and loyalty and
"Honor thy mother and father" and
"Be reconciled to thy brother."
Who are you serving, the archer had asked me.
You don't get it, I wanted to say.
You weren't there through the years of struggle,
Through the food stamps and fighting for veteran-disability pensions,
Through the hospital stays and the home dialysis,
Through the fire of our first home in Gerritsen Beach,
And the flood that ravaged our second home in Wurtsboro,
And all the other things that happened in between and since.
We were four.
And then we were whittled to three.
And now we're just two.
And yes, it matters what happens to my sister,
No matter how spotty and checkered and messed up our relationship is
Because relationships matter eternally.
And yes, I have felt the depth of my wrongdoing
Because all I kept reviewing in my mind these past few weeks is
"If you hadn't lost the house in Brooklyn,
Your sister wouldn't be forced to move Upstate now."
What did I hope to accomplish by coming here?
Spiritually - communicating to my sister that she is not alone in the Universe
(from a human perspective).
Emotionally - propping her up so that she wouldn't disintegrate nor explode.
Mentally - helping to plan then execute the actual move.
Physically - providing the manpower to facilitate the move.
And for myself?
Peace of mind. Release from guilt.
Knowing that my sister is on a path to soundness and wholeness.
Oh Lord,
My great, gracious, God,
How completely unfathomable and mysterious and wondrous
Is the way that you have unfolded,
And continue to unfold
My life.
The sale of the house in Brooklyn
Financed the necessary repairs for the house Upstate.
Had we not sold the one,
By now we would've lost both,
The Brooklyn house to Hurricane Sandy,
And the Upstate house to a crumbling foundation.
I walked by our former house on Sunday morning,
And stared in wide-eyed horror at the collapsed fence,
The items strewn on the lawn,
The open basement door that led to the sub-street-level basement
That I had baled out on numerous, rainy occasions.
O Lord,
Be with those people who purchased our family home.
Help them recover from the devastation,
From all that they have lost.
Lord,
Thank You that we were not there.
Thank You for protecting us
In this most unexpected and convoluted of ways.
Father,
There is release at the end of this long, circuitous journey.
At last,
There is an easing of burdens,
A knowing and experiencing of Your Grace
That far outweighs all that I have felt and envisioned
These past three years.
At the end of all this,
I can feel seeds of peace and freedom
Finally flourishing...
Finally leading me to where I belong...
West... west...
The arid air and desert landscapes
Are calling me home.
"Everything happens for a reason."
Indeed, Adalheid, indeed!...
Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
I acknowledged my sin to you,
and I did not cover my iniquity;
I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,”
and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah (Psalm 32: 1a, 5)
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