What was your Grandmother’s name?   Where do you come from?      

February 19, 2025 

The readings today:    Jesus takes the blind man aside.   Smears mud over his eyes and the man’s vision begins to recover.  Then he uses hands again over his eyes and the man’s vision is totally restored.  Mark 8:22-26. 

Center for Action and Contemplation reading:  What is your grandmother’s name, where do you come from?

When I think of my personal history I am flooded with uncomfortable remembrances. 

• Being 18 years old and feeling totally alone in the world.  I actually told a boy I was dating, that a person is alone in the world.  I remember feeling like it was all up to me to figure things out.  A sense that no one cared or could help a person through life.   I was surprised at how shocked he was with my thoughts.
• Being 15 years old and trying to pull off a High-school event, planned entirely by myself.  I was the VP of the sophomore class and I was supposed to plan a scavenger hunt that sophomore students did with freshman at Como Park.   At the time, I thought it was normal to plan it all by myself.   When it floundered, I totally lost confidence in myself. 
• Wanting to be a “leader” at 15, in my sophomore year.  I had run for class vice-president.  I had no group that I felt I really belonged to, no friend I shared my feeling with, no idea that this was not normal if I wanted to be a leader. 
• Earlier as a pre-teen/teen, babysitting and recognizing that I really didn’t connect with the kids.  I was there for the money and for “treats” left for me.  Recognized, there was a feeling of “not caring” about the kids, although I kept them safe.   
• Even earlier (early grade school), I remember, that I had to be a “good girl”.   I had to say please and thank you or I wasn’t a good girl.
• I remember, although, mom showed signs of care when I was very young, she did not cuddle or hug me as I got older.   She never listened to what I said.  I learned early,  not to try to verbally express myself, as she would talk over me or not respond to what I said.  I felt my words had no value.   (In defense of my mother, I recognize now that her love language was her commitment to feeding, clothing and housing me. And that is not nothing). 

These are my early remembrances and they set me up for a time in college and young adulthood, where I went through the motions of belonging to groups, but always felt separate, sad, unsure, and lost.  I had no one to talk to about my observations, fears, and feeling then.   I didn’t even think that my feelings were important.  What was important was getting good grade, doing the “right thing”.  Those things would make my life ok.  They didn’t.

I remember clinging to “church” and youth groups in my late high-school and during my college years.    I liked the energy, the message, the fake feeling of belonging at least when I was at the groups.  I think staying close to the church, receiving communion, going through ritual, trying to pray, talking about “godly” things, kept me safe from worse things.  But, the demons of self-doubt, self-recrimination and utter lack of self-confidence had free reign for quite a while and robbed me of any joy.   At one point in early adult years, I remember seeing the saying “An indelible sign of God’s presence is Joy”.   I remember thinking, “What is joy?”   I didn’t know what joy was; I could not remember experiencing the thing called “joy”.   

The recognition that a lack of joy in my life was a sign I was injured, that I needed healing, was gradual.  The initial healing was dramatic and the full healing continues over my entire life.  It’s been like the blind man’s sight gradually being restored as told by Mark 8.   My healing story is for another day, I think.

Jesus, I feel like you are calling me to a different way of living now, again.  Today, there is a reason, I need to remember this painful history, even if I can’t see it.    Help me to stay close to you, to not be fearful or distracted by world events.  I want to see you more clearly.  I want to follow you and be your hands in this world.  I recognize that I still feel a lack of belonging, holding myself back from being close to others, to being a full part of groups.  But that scar-ed part of me does not define my being in the world anymore.  I chose today, instead, to concentrate on the gift of faith in you, the gifts of joy in my life.  Today, I specifically think of the gift of Jim, my husband.  He helps to keep me grounded in you.  Jim and I see things so differently, yet, I feel loved in his presence.   I respect and appreciate his perspective, fortitude and generosity.  He is a Sign of your light today in my life.