I must admit the birth of our amazing granddaughter has provided a much welcome break from the journey on which I have been traveling…her entrance into this world was like coming upon a sunny meadow after trudging for days through a dark, dank forest. But, I hear the call of my God to continue my journey. Staying in the meadow to avoid the painful, yet exceedingly joyful, path on which I have been traveling has begun to dry up my spirit. Where else can I drink deeply from the well of Life but in the gracious will of my heavenly Father? To meet and experience Him, to receive His ministry, to learn more of Him, to live with Him is far more soul gratifying than anything this world can offer. So, again I move forward anticipating renewal, His love and His continued healing. (I am also still planning on enjoying our granddaughter!)
To refresh your mind, my last post (prior to those about our delightful granddaughter) was The terror cont’d in which I described concurrent nights of waking visions. Subsequently, I experienced two more nights of visual revelations. The first time, I awoke to see my small child crouched behind my grandparent’s living room couch carefully and meticulously using the nozzle tool to vacuum the carpet’s edge (this was one of the chores I was required to do)…and she was crying. This was significant and unusual, for tears were not part of the culture of our household. One did what one was told with no questions asked, talking was a rare commodity and expressing one’s feelings was unheard of. Surprised by her weeping, I realized I was looking through a window into her heart, and for the first time I understood the pain and weariness of her toiling isolation. She was being trained to take up the baton of her grandmother’s obsessive compulsive work ethic and dreary “I am a rock, I am an island” mentality (to quote Simon and Garfunkle)…there was no room for play or meaningful relationships; to learn to work was of first importance. In the days and weeks following my newly gained perception, vignettes paraded across my mind of the manipulative drudgery required during the formative years of my child’s life by the ruling matriarch of our family. In that environment, I learned my value was determined by what I could do, not by who I was. Any sense of personal worth was wiped away, until the core of my being was filled with emptiness.
I lived with the memory of her oppression and pain for days until I could bear it no longer. To experience release, my God once again led me to forgive…to forgive my grandmother for trying to live her life through me, for trying to conform me into her image rather than helping me to grow into the person I was created to be, for not nurturing me and allowing me to be a child.
Yet there was still a dark cloud hovering over my personal landscape, weighing me down and blocking the light from above. Asking God for insight led me to realize I was still carrying my grandmother’s onus, the responsibility she had laid on my child to carry her legacy, her traditions, her code of life, the family curses and the family’s bondage. Her burden had overcast my life with gloom, draining my energy, hiding hope and the wonderful plans God has for me.
But, I was not bound forever! At that moment of spiritual understanding, I refused to be her standard bearer any longer; I laid down her tyrannical charge on my life at the foot of the Cross. There I saw the heavy mists of her powerful control absorbed into that instrument of Jesus’ death as smoke would quickly be sucked into a vacuum…and I gained a deeper understanding of what Scripture teaches when it states that Jesus “took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows” and bore on that torturous wood the wounds by which we are healed. (Isaiah 53:4-5) Through His sacrificial death, which defeated the powers of this dark world, her sin and misery was lifted from me, and I bore her burden no longer.