maybe dialogue_34

maybe dialogue_34

r e f e r e n c e : original post

q u o t e _ c o m m e n t : Flute Player

a b o u t : maybe dialogue

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Original Sin

Original Sin

Image: Geo Sans

~

imperfect

god created man

in his image

~

childhood trauma

my primary source

of guilt and pain

my family and church

our innocence lost

~

righteous rage

he was a jealous god

insecure, uncertain

fear trumped love

anger overruled compassion

~

reconciliation

forgive me father

I forgive you god

for all our sins

we’re only human

 

_ _ _

 

B L O O D L I N E S

Purging an old covenant. First memories of my dad. Small prairie church in the 1970s. Our family fills an entire front row.

My father is 38 (anxious). He has 5 children under eight years old and his wife is carrying their sixth child. He is trying to sell the family farm.

Squeaming, screaming. Church feels unbearably long for children and parents (there’s no peace on earth).

~

W O N D E R

I’m three years old and staring at a church bulletin. A line drawing of an adult Jesus. For the first time, I notice a nose isn’t the smudged dot from my drawings. My eyes trace and memorize this new shape.

~

T H U N D E R

When home, my dad yells, snarls. We weren’t still and quiet enough. His belt swings hard against our bare flesh. We all taste the burning sting and shame of fear, anger, pain.

I close my eyes unable to block my older brother’s terror. His anguishing bone chilling howls of horror. I still see your purple watery face. You are only six.

Instilling a fear of god. Subconsciously, I start hating going to church (anxiety) — and I grew up resenting my father’s authoritative power. We did not understand each other. We lived and spoke different languages. I ended up focusing on what my dad wasn’t.

~

C O N T R A D I C T I O N S

Identifying, processing. This trauma was extremely difficult for me. My dad wasn’t a violent man. He was soft-spoken. He always cared for us, was always there. He was hardworking and sombre. And I can vividly remember each and every rare time he genuinely smiled — or lost his temper. Both very rare.

~

I N N O C E N C E

It’s been 10 years since our family’s last Christmas with our father. Even though he never said it, I know he loved me. It was difficult for us to give and receive. We both had trouble with emotions.

Different views, perspectives. Time has helped with understanding. Maybe it wasn’t fair to judge my father. Maybe meaningful relationships can eclipse one traumatic moment.

Today, I open my heart to you dad. I apologize for the walls I built. And I forgive you for your old trespasses. I’m ready to live and love you freely. Peace to you — and peace to me.

+ + +

L I N K S:

Study Proves Spanking Hurts Your Kids’ Mental Health

What is Religious Trauma Syndrome?

Be The Verb

when we lost

our son

we lost

each other

~

we were shells

empty

hurting

voids

~

different ways

of grieving

disconnected

us

~

our raw pain

forced unrealistic

expectations

upon ourselves

~

feeling

emotionally abandoned

unable to help

heal

~

I’m sorry

I let you down

when you needed

me

~

I’m learning

to forgive

myself

~

Be The Verb

Spurned

mourning

our silent baby

our hospital room

together

~

to say good-bye

I asked for a blessing

from a man of faith

~

no soothing

comfort

just guilt

for not practicing

~

you could be anybody

our church

doesn’t know you

~

I have engraved your name on the palms of my hands

~

insincerity

grudgingly

walking through

a ritual

~

forgive me father

I know not

what I do

~

Spurned