Monday, January 31, 2011

I didn’t understand...

Sometimes God has a way of opening your eyes that knocks you off your feet and leaves you breathless and sitting on the floor wondering how you got there.
I was gifted recently by the friendship of a very special lady who came to me by happy coincidence, a woman who has an inner strength that I do not think I have yet witnessed in this world.  She is uniquely humble with regards to her own personal pain, in that to know her you would never know the darkness she has seen.  When we think in terms of evil, in terms of torment and hate we think often of war and the struggle for survival in the poorest of places.  Too often we forget that right here in our own back yard exists a world of pain and fear.  Poverty, oppression and abuse are ever present still in our modern day society and although we all know it is there it is not often we get a close up personal view of the inner thoughts and feelings of the victims.  Too painful I think perhaps it is for the average person to bear witness to some of the horrendous deeds done by our fellow man and so we turn a blind eye to what we should be paying attention to.  We don’t want to hear it, we don’t want to see because if we do and if we allow it to really sink into us as being a part of reality we will have to admit to ourselves that there is still yet much work to be done here in terms of building a better more beautiful world in which to live. 
Then there is the courage that it takes, the absolute all out refusal to bow down in the face of fear mentality that is needed for the victims of such crimes to speak.  For if it is that it hurts us only to hear such a tale imagine the pain involved in the reliving and telling of it.  Yet every once in a while a warrior of immeasurable strength comes forward out of the ashes and lays their story at our feet daring us to pick it up.  They defiantly stare us in the eye and say ‘this is me – ALL of me – take it or leave it this is where I’ve been and who I am ‘.  When this happens we are given a precious opportunity to return that trust and honour the gift as it is given, for through the telling of their truths the pain of others may be healed when they realize that they are not alone in their grief.  This kind of bravery cannot be compared to any other as it an opening and exposure of the most personal and private pieces of their lives.  It is with that in mind that today I write.
I will not say her name, nor will I tell her tale as it is not mine to tell but I will tell you that her strength and sense of purpose have reawakened in me a sense of self worth and accomplishment.  She through her willingness to come forward and share her heart with me allowed me to take a long hard glimpse into my own and yet again confirm for me that what I do as a person, what I do as a writer is important to those I share my life with.  She says that it was through my writing that she again found courage to face her truth; she says that my own openness inspired her in turn to come into the open with regards to who she is.  I say she will forever more be one of the most precious gifts that God has ever sent.  For after all was said and done, her story almost told, her world now a part of mine she turns to me and says...  ‘I hope you know how much you touch the lives of others’
To that I say – No – not until today – and good Lord lady how I cried the moment I realized what my life was worth...
She shared her life with me and in doing so she may just have saved mine; God Bless the angel who walks among you, unseen and suffering the sorrows of man so that man may learn to live a life of compassion and empathy...
Jean Victoria Norloch

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