Grieving & Unanwered Prayers

Grieving and Unanswered Prayers

The following is an excerpt from Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again

“M shrugged and said, “I don’t know why God answers some prayers and others are unanswered, Ray. No one knows. I don’t know why good people suffer and bad people thrive. I don’t know, and I have no answers. I know you’re angry. You’re not the first person to be mad at God, and you won’t be the last. You may not see it today or tomorrow, but you’re loved. When you open your eyes to love, and you will, you will see little flowers of love coming your way in unexpected ways. It may be a stranger who asks you casually how you’re doing. It may be a neighbor doing something nice for you. I don’t know. I received thousands of love flowers—that’s what I call them—and, I’m still receiving them.”

I am giving away an ebook copy (available on iTunes) of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again to 50 lucky winners who like this post by midnight, December 17th. Winners will be randomly selected and notified by email with the iTunes code for downloading Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again. If you liked this post or previous Dancing Alone posts and want to receive an ebook copy of Dancing Along: Learning to Live Again, please complete the contact form below or email me directly (ray.brese@gmail.com) with your email address. I will not share your email address or place you on any newsletter mailing list. 

Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again is available in paperback and ebook formats from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and Kobo.

Some Fill With Each Good Rain ~ Poem by Hafiz

Some Fill With Each Good Rain 

There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.

In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That “love” is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.

There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that.

Vinnie Tells His Mom They’re Just Alike

17

“Dad, Dad, Dad,” hollers Vinnie.

“You don’t have to shout, Vinnie. Dad is sitting next to you. What is so important that you haven’t taken a bite of your breakfast?” asks Vinnie’s mom.

Vinnie turns toward his mom, “This is between Dad and me, Mom. You have to put your fingers in your ears so you don’t hear.”

“Can’t it wait until after breakfast?” asks Vinnie’s mom. She instantly realizes Vinnie is always all in to the present moment and whatever thought is racing around in his brain.

“Dear, it’s probably best if you listen to Vinnie,” says Vinnie’s mom.

“What is so important, Vinnie,” says his dad.

“Dad, why are you reading your iPad? Mom always says it’s better not to have digital stuff at the table,” says Vinnie.

“I wanted to see the scores of the basketball games, that’s all,” says Vinnie’s dad sheepishly. He clicks off the iPad and turns it over. “Is that better?”

“Yep. Mom, put your fingers in your ears and keep them there until I tell you to take them out.”

Vinnie’s mom puts a forefinger in each ear. She smiles at Vinnie.

Vinnie hollers, “Can you hear me, Mom?”

Vinnie’s mom shakes her head no. 

Vinnie says, “Thanks, Mom. I know you can’t hear me because you never lie to me.”

Vinnie’s mom thinks, Vinnie really takes after his dad’s side of the family. She wonders if she’ll ever see a sign of her DNA in him. A passing thought runs through her mind, ‘Could the babies have been switched at the hospital?’ She shakes her head no, impossible, but then again.

“Why are you shaking your head, Mom? Never mind, you can’t hear me,” says Vinnie turning his attention toward his dad.

“Dad, I need to do my Christmas shopping. I have to buy you and mom and Rupert and Dexter presents. I want to get all of you stocking stuffers. It’s going to take me all day and part of the evening. Can I miss the living nativity tonight. I don’t think I’ll be finished?”

Before Vinnie’s dad responds, his mom says,”No.”

“You were listening, Mom. You were listening. You said you couldn’t hear me.”

Vinnie’s mom is as fast on her feet as her son. She says, “Mom’s have selective hearing. I turned everything except for anything you might say about the living nativity scene.”

“Wow, Mom. We’re just alike. I tune Mrs. Navis out all the time. I only listen to what I want to listen. I take after you, Mom.”

Vinnie’s dad starts laughing.

Vinnie’s Mom, her fingers now out of her ears, says, “What are you laughing at?”

“You always wondered how Vinnie favors you.”

“Don’t go there, dear.”

“Go where, Mom. Where don’t you want dad to go. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go there. Honest. I’m on it, Mom.”

“The stores open at ten. Why don’t you two men take off for the day. I am going to the spa. Dear, buy Thai takeout, I don’t want to cook. We’ll leave at 6:30 for the live nativity scene.”

“But, Mom, it doesn’t start until 7. Can’t we leave at 7?” asks Vinnie.

“No, Vinnie, we will leave early so you can be at the nativity scene tonight a half hour early.”

“Mom, I don’t like Thigh food.”

“I said Thai food.”

“I still don’t like it. How will I play the donkey on a stomach filled with food I don’t like?”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph please pray for me and Sister Janet,” utters Vinnie’s mom.

Tip 1 of 6 Fiction Writing Tips by George Orwell

Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

Source: Open Culture

Bringing Sorrow Into The Sunlight

Giveaway Opportunity – Receive the Free ebook: Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again

The following excerpt is from Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again

“You’re carrying a lot of baggage, Ray. You need to unpack it, or it’s going to burden you for the rest of your life.” M replied. “Journaling will help lighten the load so one day you will fly unafraid through the clouds. Let your journal reflect your deepest emotions, your deepest feelings, and your perceptions of what happened to Babe and you.”

I began journaling following M’s advice and it made all the difference. Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again contains all of my journals. They will give you ideas on how journaling can help you move through the grieving process.

I am giving away an ebook copy (available on iTunes) of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again to 50 lucky winners who like this post and complete the contact form below by midnight, December 17th. Winners will be randomly selected and notified by email with the iTunes code for downloading Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again on December 20th. 

Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again is available in paperback and ebook formats from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, and Kobo

A Hymm to Christ ~ Poem by John Donne

A Hymn To Christ

In what torn ship soever I embark,
That ship shall be my emblem of thy Ark;
What sea soever swallow me, that flood
Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood;
Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise
Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes,
Which, though they turn away sometimes,
They never will despise.

I sacrifice this Island unto thee,
And all whom I loved there, and who loved me;
When I have put our seas ‘twixt them and me,
Put thou thy sea betwixt my sins and thee.
As the tree’s sap doth seek the root below
In winter, in my winter now I go,
Where none but thee, th’ Eternal root
Of true Love, I may know.

Nor thou nor thy religion dost control
The amorousness of an harmonious Soul,
But thou wouldst have that love thyself: as thou
Art jealous, Lord, so I am jealous now,
Thou lov’st not, till from loving more, Thou free
My soul: who ever gives, takes liberty:
O, if thou car’st not whom I love
Alas, thou lov’st not me.

Seal then this bill of my Divorce to All,
On whom those fainter beams of love did fall;
Marry those loves, which in youth scattered be
On Fame, Wit, Hopes (false mistresses) to thee.
Churches are best for Prayer, that have least light:
To see God only, I go out of sight:
And to ‘scape stormy days, I choose
An Everlasting night.