I have cried a great deal today. Just one of those days when I can't help but be moved by what I focus and give my attention to. As easily as I cry, I wish it wasn't so awkward for me. I have never been comfortable with crying in public. I know this is due in part to my upbringing and the harsh consequences tears created for me. My mother, the most influential person in my childhood, always berated and chastised me whenever I would cry. She made it clear to me that boys should never cry. Never. Yet, I was never able to oblige her in this area of my life since I have always been the sensitive type. Sensitive to my own feelings and disappointments. Sensitive to those around me and a sucker for situations that called for handkerchiefs and the blowing of noses. This sensitivity would drive my mother insane with rage. I still shake my head at the memories of being reprimanded and physically punished whenever I cried. "I'll give you something to cry about" or "So you want to cry, do you?" always prefaced a slap or the sting of the belt buckle. Needless to say, this never worked and only made me cry all the more; each time she would react towards my tears with such negativity she unconsciously poured buckets of slimy shame over me. A shame that permeated my psyche and grew inside me like a thorn bush: prickly, uncomfortable, and at times unbearable to live with.
My father also had his share in my present unhealthy aversion to tears. Taking a page from the same parental manual, he would severely burn my flesh as a consequence to what came so naturally to me. If I cried in his presence or was informed by my mother I had at any point in the day cried, he would insult me and call me dreadful names, the likes of which I would be called for most of my life: "sissy", "little girl", "mamao" (loosely translated as one who sucks from a bottle), and whatever else came to his mind. in his attempt to "man me up" on several occasions he would place me in a corner facing him. He would give the following instructions in his commando Spanish: " If one tear or sound come out of you, I will hit you even harder". He would then proceed to punch me and land blow after blow upon my body as I stood there wedged in the corner with my eyes tightly shut.
Amongst many things, I have my parents to thank for the high threshold to pain I possess today. It came in handy during my radiation treatment. As my urine and feces came out of me like the sharpest of razor blades, it wasn't until the very end of my treatment (when I had to be hospitalized and given morphine intravenously in order to cope with the pain) that I could take it no longer and required serious intervention. The searing pain became unbearable and I no longer could contain the shrieks and howls that escaped out of me during those hellish moments. Radiation had burned my flesh to the point that if you were to look at my nether regions you would have thought someone had poured scalding water on me or worse, put a hot iron to me.
Thankfully, no one dared tell me not to cry then. It was understood and expected of me and though I never witnessed it, I am almost positive they cried right along with me during those days. My parents, as well as my sisters, and brother-in-law rose to the occasion and rallied around me during this season when I stood closer than ever at death's door. Although they never said it, I could see the concern and worry tattooed in their facial expressions even as they made valiant efforts to remain cheerful in my presence. You see, good things do come out of bad situations.
I cried today at church like a loving father at his child's funeral. Try as I would, there was no concealing the pain and yearning deep inside me. Every love song sung by the worship team ran through my emotions like a romance novel where two lovers are separated and find themselves longing for each others embrace. I wanted desperately to feel God's tender touch. I longed to be held and comforted. I prayed for a glimpse of His love and it expressed itself in copious tears. Today was one of those days I wished for a prolonged time of worship. I wanted to "desahogarme" (pour out my troubles) and be emptied out once and for all. Peter seemed to have picked all the right songs today and for the first time in a long time I did not care who saw me cry. Okay, maybe I did a little but thankfully I positioned myself against the back wall of the Sanctuary and felt safe enough there to let it rip. I have christened one corner at the back of the church where, if need be, I can go and pull out my handkerchief and have a good cry. For some unknown reason I feel safe at this back spot and am able to let loose. This is also where I take my piece of bread dipped in grape juice and have communion with my Lord. Speaking of which, can I just tell you how validated I felt today by Pastor Pete's sermon? He outdid himself this morning when he preached his message entitled "WOW! I am married to Jesus!" Wow, indeed.
Earthly Marriage is an awesome institution and a precursor and reflective image of what Heaven will be like. The passion, faithfulness, fruitfulness and sexual intimacy which should be present in earthly marriages will definitely be present in our spiritual union with Christ for all of eternity. Is it any wonder that Jesus' arch rival is bent on destroying the sanctity of marriage here on Earth? He would love nothing more than to have us repudiate, curse, and fail miserably in our marriages. Marriage is so important to God that His enemy cannot help but try and destroy that very thing which is near to God's heart. My own feeble heart really, truly goes out to married couples. I see the struggle and the honor and everything else present in it that makes it so desirable to all types of people. I wept for joy over this deeper revelation.
Pete ended his sermon by illustrating that every time we partake of the bread and the wine (or grape juice as in my congregation's case) we are symbolically taking Jesus into ourselves. Pete equated it to sexual intimacy and union. I wonder how many people caught that? I was blown away. It all made so much sense to me why God insists we remain faithful to him and abstain from giving ourselves to anyone else but out of marriage. He is preparing us for celestial oneness with Him and since He is holy how then can he unite himself to someone who is not being holy in return...setting him or herself apart? I was so overcome with deepest appreciation and love this morning that I cannot wait to go out and replace the ring on my left hand for a more expensive and worthy one. If I glimpsed a little bit then, now I see more clearly and rejoice in my calling as the Bride of Christ.
What can I say, I look good in bridal white. Longing for that day when the Wedding Feast of the Lamb will be celebrated and our "I do's" be forever sealed in the presence of fiery angels where my Lover has gone ahead to prepare a place for me. Can't wait! Seriously...cannot wait. I am dying with anticipation and longing. I'm finally getting married someday! Soon, I hope and pray.
...Oh yeah, watched "Temple Grandin" again for the third time and bawled at the end, again. What an emotionally purging kind of day this has been. More importantly, today has been a validating kind of day manifested in tears. Tears of Validation.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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