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White Brick Wall


From: Introduction


My son, Matthew, died . . . of complications. He was alone, 1100 miles away from me, in a place where I prayed he was finding his brand of peace. By the time he died, Matt had created a life without me and, though he was still at my center, as far as I knew my boy’s life barely included his mother. Our estrangement settled my life into an indefinite pause, a quiet circling in measured, reserved steps; his death drew me deeply into thick shadows. Then when I no longer hoped, he visited my dreams – his energy, standing straight and easily, radiated as would a warm smile. I felt his contentment and my heart released in a sigh. Pause shifted to play and, with its own special rhythm, life began moving forward again.


From: The Addendum for Grace

 . . . just talk about what you think is saving your life now:  this statement brought my reading to an abrupt halt.  Barbara Brown Taylor’s words in An Altar in the World immediately ping-ponged around my brain, resting briefly on one idea, then another thought and then another. What is saving my life?  And with that question I tumble back into the past.


I name my Saviors and note that they have changed over time. When Matt died, I counted on those who proved they knew how to unconditionally love me to save me, to keep me alive, to help me open my eyes to tomorrows.  When BC left me, I fell into the intellectual arms of strangers and colleagues whose words, ideas, and experiences taught me ways to honor and salvage remnants of a lifestyle slowly disintegrating.  In time I worked to save myself by using skills and new understandings to make decisions and alter the way I thought about and lived life.  Saviors change. And, luckily for us all, saviors abound.

My ten-year travel brought me many saviors, not all to whom I listened well, but many were in the right time, the right place with the right words I needed to hear.  Search for your own with as clear a focus as you can muster.  Rest in their loving advice and believe them when they say you are loved. Uncover the savior that lives inside you; listen and take to heart all the grace-filled messages reminding you to love yourself, preparing you for the possible.  Don’t be afraid of the space in between what has been and what can be: Simply spend a quiet moment to wrap and warm yourself within your own arms . . .  then step forward.  There’s a door just ahead, opening into the light of a new time.

Letters For Grace: One mothers journey

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