Lynne’s Spiritual Journey taken from a July 14, 2000 email
Hey, Mom, remember that time when we all went camping in Oak Creek Canyon. We girls were horsing around in a little lake and a crazy man stood on a little hill above the lake hollerin' at us to "Git outta mah watern' hole"? He had a stick in his hand that looked like a gun that he thrust in in the air with every word. “Git outta mah watern’ hole!” I'm including that in my timeline where I mark out memorable events in my life when I felt Divine Presence had lifted up, when I was REALLY in the palms of Jesus, my plethora of angels, God and the power of the Spirit. The timeline ends with an arrow because I'm still living my life. And I have many more blessings to add. Here is what I’ve written so far.
My time line begins with my birth, September 26, 1963. Both my mother and I were lifted up. It was a hard labor because I came out butt first and my mother tells me that at one point in the birthing process she died. She floated painless through a screen of light that flashed peaceful images like flash cards in space, and then she felt herself thrust reluctantly back to reality, screaming, “Noooooooo!” And in that final push I was born with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck three times. After they untangled me, I let out a scream that she can still hear. I was further blessed to have been born intoa wonderfully fun and spirit filled family, seven uncles and aunts and what became a couple hundred, well, maybe a hundred cousins, a big fun family that laughed a lot..
In about 1965, I drank Drano. I don’t remember doing it, but for a long time I had the scars on my tongue to prove it. Mom was cleaning the bathroom while I was napping. Because the drain was slow she took out the Drano, and then went to the kitchen to get a spoon. She heard me scream and ran back to the bathroom. I had awakened, gone to the bathroom, and decided that Drano might make a good snack. God was with me because my mother calmly and coolly carried me to the kitchen and poured a glass of vinegar down my throat, followed by a glass of salad oil, gave me a glass of milk and called the doctor. When she told the doctor what she had done, he said, “Exactly right. A little overboard, but good. A couple of tablespoons would have done the trick.” My mother always wondered how she knew what to do.
Between 1965 and 1968 I got lost many times. We lived in Metaline, Washington in a housing area called the sheep sheds, old WWII barracks moved into town to provide housing for the dam builders. Once I wandered to a little lake all the way across town. All the residents of the sheep sheds were out combing the town for me. An old fisherman brought me to the grocery store and sat with me until a neighbor found me and took me home.
February 22, 1968, my sister Laura was born. We were racing down the freeway to the hospital. Mom was in the back seat, screaming at the top of her lungs and I was SO WORRIED, MY MAMMA'S GONNA DIE!!!!! Turns out, my sister was hankerin' to get out, but she'd given mom so many false alarms, Mom didn't feel ready for the real one, and now was afraid she'd give birth right there in the car
In April of 1969, I told my Mom, “Can You, Me and Laura go move away somewhere and leave daddy here?” My father was a schizophrenic and he had been in one of his many tirades. The next thing I knew my mom, my sister Laura and I were on a Greyhound bus headed for Flagstaff, Arizona. For many years, I felt guilty because I thought the divorce was my fault. I don't remember that trip too well, but I do remember the dive in down town Los Angeles where we ate burgers while waiting for a bus transfer. It was a pretty scary place, and I got sick and puked all over my Mom.
The next two years were golden. We lived in a four generation household, my great-grandmother, my grandparents, my Uncle Layne and Aunt Monica. Oh, how I loved her. She was 16, a tiny little girl filled with the Holy Spirit. She played a guitar and sang songs of praise all the time. We had empty lots behind and just north of our house. I constantly played outside, communing with God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit, in the flowers, the trees, the bugs, the bees, the wind and the trees. I and my friends left home at dawn and came home for meals. We built forts and played games. It was golden.
In November of 1973, my mother remarried. Richard had five children. First the older two, Brenda and Dean, lived with us, but before long the younger ones came as well: Michelle, Jeanette, and Wayne, and then in 1976 Roark was born. A gift from God because he became the glue that held us all together. We all loved him so. We sometimes called ourselves the Flagstaff Brady Bunch.
God was also with me one day in 1977. I had just gotten off from work and gone to my Grandma's to pick up my little brother Roark. In those days, believe it or not, we didn’t use car seats and often held a small child on our laps. I was cruising over Cedar Hill kissing Roark on the top of his precious little head. All of a sudden, I felt like the surface I was on gave way and realized I'd veered off the road. We were headed off the shoulder toward the trees. For some reason, I didn't panic, I felt very calm, and before I knew it, we were back on the road. We both got home safe and sound. I know that if it was just me behind that wheel, neither of us would be here today
During the summer of 1978, my junior year of high school, I felt a deep, spiritual connection with God and the universe while working In the Grand Canyon with the Youth Conservation Corps. We cleared hiking trails, picked up garbage, floated down the Colorado to stop after stop. It was glorious. How I wish I'd done that again the NEXT year. They even ASKED me to be a camp counselor, but pay wasn’t much and I was so bent on making money, that I took a job at A. J. Bayless. It was a depressing summer for me.
It was during that time that I lost my way with the Holy Spirit. I went to college and then married Marty, a very witty, highly intelligent charmer, but an agnostic. We moved to Tucson where he began working on his Doctorate in English and I entered the nursing program at the University of Arizona.
In 1988 I was the unfortunate pedestrian in a pedestrian/motor-vehicular collision: I was brought Dead On Arrival (DOA) to the University Medical Center. I spent the next three months in a deep coma, the following six months in a variety of hospitals and nursing homes. The doctors predicted that IF I lived, I would surely be a vegetable on life support. Well I did live, and after 9 months in hospitals and nursing homes and 3 more months in rehab, and group homes, I finally went home to my loving husband who quickly decided her didn’t want to live with me anymore.
It was a painful experience, but I can now see that it, too, was a blessing. The condo my mother eventually bought for me abuts a church parking lot, and across that lot at St. Marks Presbyterian I have made many new friends and joined a beautiful church family. I sing in the choir and play in the bell choir. It is a spirit filled church and they help me to feel whole againl.. They also inspired me to create this time line.
I know there are other events in my life I can and should add because I am blessed each and every day. There has been more than one occasion when I've returned home in the afternoon only to find a skillet left on a burner after having seasoned it that morning. I attribute to Divine Grace the fact that I avoided the many potential dangers that living alone provides and that I survived as well some of my ill-considered intimate relationships. I praise God that I am STILL the ever-hopeful optimist! I've turned the paper over and extended the line to three more rows on that side of the paper and I will keep Jesus forever in my heart and not fail to record all my blessings.
No comments:
Post a Comment