Friday, September 22, 2006


This week I have cried three times.

I am not a crier, in general. Crying is not reasonable. It accomplished nothing and more often than not muddies conflicts and intensifies difficult emotions, is merely complicating rather than productive to any given situation. This is my stance on the matter. Nevertheless, Monday when I walked in the door from taking the girls to school, I sat down on the couch, dropped my head in my hands and sobbed; Tuesday night, reading Mary Oliver's newest book, Thirst, in a bathtub full of warm, rosewood-scented water somewhere near midnight, I had to close my eyes and lay the book aside, choking on tears; and this morning driving home from the school drop-off, I found my knuckles clenching white on the steering wheel, the road blurring before me, my body tight with tears yet again.

Maybe it's just the season. Autumn has, as I've written before, always been a difficult time for me. Coming after the year it does, this time, it has quite a bit of deeply stored pain to tap into. Much has gone on this year regarding my extended family and church, and I've carried a heaviness that surfaces everytime we watch the movie Serenity (as we do often here at PossumBox Lane) and the character River Tam cries out, " isn't mine. And I shouldn't have to carry it. It isn't mine!"

"I need a month off from church," I told Great Scott, "as soon as the girls are back in school." How to explain the crush of sorrow when one sets foot in the sanctuary? How to explain the cessation of breath?


Kristin said...

While I don't know your pain or your history, I know mine, and through it send a wish for the grief and the joy that you need this season.

Much love to you.

Cheryl of the Wilds of C said...

Holy Spirit, I ask you to intercede for Cindy with groans that words can't express. Pour out your blessing on her. Heal her heart where it is broken and give her abundant joy. I pray for her the prayer of Paul for the Ephesians in Ephesians 3:16-19. Enable the tears to flow where there is need and protect her from the one who accuses her. Give her refuge in the shadow of your wing and give her a weekend full of wonderful surprises.

I just returned to church after a year 'sabbatical'. The Lord affirmed and blessed me in my time away.

Jennifer said...

I'll be praying for you, and hoping you find the rest your soul needs.

Cindy said...

Thank you, Ladies.

Kristin, I'd never have thought to pray for grief that may needed, but I think you may be on to something there, and it makes me more open to letting things flow through rather than trying to fight them off.

Cheryl, my weekend began this morning with a call from my sister (also named Cheryl, BTW) asking if I could help her family move today. So the wonderful surprises began, and there have been other, smaller, private and intimate ones from Him. Thank you for that lovely prayer.

Jennifer, you are rapidly becoming a "shield-sister" and I thank you most sincerely and deeply for your friendship. Have you found a permanent place in London yet?

Fieldfleur said...

I'm sorry for the sadness you're feeling, Cindy. I hope things lighten. Thank you for being real.

PS. Did you get my ... ? I think it made it to the box and then I start doubting! Weird!

Cindy said...

Teri--Thanks, Teri, and, yes, I did receive the ...?. I've been carrying it around with me, in fact, thinking I'll reciprocate. In fact, I do mean to do so; probably I need to stop thinking I'll be able to do it in one sitting, though.

I_Wonder said...

Cindy, Crying may not be reasonable but I think it's healthy. I pastored for 15 years and found the institutionalized church to be oppressive. Faith, however, can't be institutionalized. No advice here but best wishes for you and your family.

Michael said...


Will keep you in my thoughts and prayers....

Cindy said...

Michael--Thank you very much. This week has gotten harder, so your prayer, Michael, have been put to hard use, I assure you.

Paul--Thank you for this: I pastored for 15 years and found the institutionalized church to be oppressive. Faith, however, can't be institutionalized. I have felt this for a very, very long time, and it's very freeing and even healing to hear someone else say it in compassion not just for people hurt by the institutional church, but also in compassion for the church itself, as I know you likely do. It's that last sentence that makes it bearable at all. I cling to that fact--hourly, at times.