Siblings

I guess it has been two weeks now since I learned my sister was leaving her husband. It is odd to me how mixed my feelings are over this. I find myself shamed by some of my thoughts. The biggest part of that shame is the fact that I find myself in some ways glad that she is leaving him because he is such a worthless sod. But I am simultaneous thinking of the spiritual aspect of her leaving him and wondering once more if everything is black and white in a world cast in shades of gray. I question everything once again as I did when my own parents divorced. In those questions I find my faith being tried in the fire.

I look at my sister and hear her words and know she is set on this path and when I put myself in her shoes I understand her reasons and cannot blame her. So I question how God would see it through His eyes as He is the ultimate judge. I find myself laughing at my folly for even attempting to know the mind of God. I turn to scripture and find so many scriptures that seem to refute each other. I question how I can offer her advice when I am not sure of my own convictions. In the end I tell her if she has prayed about it and feels she can look at God at the end of her days and feels she is doing what is right by His eyes and can look herself in the mirror to go on ahead. I tell her as it says in Phillipians "To work out her own salvation with fear and trembling." I tell her that what she does now in her relationship with her husband will set a precedence for how she will deal with future relationships. I tell her when she crosses that line each time it gets easier. I tell her it will be easier for her to leave when things get rough again because the common denominator in all of your relationships is yourself. I look at all the people in her life whispering in her ear giving her their opinions and I know in my heart they are pumping her up in a bad way. I know she does not need their opinions because she will have a hard enough time forming her own opinion.

In many ways I helped raise my sister and I wonder if I failed her. I wonder if I should have been less hard on her husband once she married him or more insistent in the beginning that she didn't marry him to begin with. But then God whispers in my ear and says it is the freewill of man and this is the hurt I feel when my children make mistakes. I am broken in this knowledge, knowing I have failed many times myself. In these thoughts I am led to write a poem and I know even as I write it I will never share it with her...

Sister

Dear sister, would that I was able,
I’d try to turn the table.
But there are some monsters in this world so fey,
That even my sword cannot slay.

I cannot protect you from yourself,
Anymore that I can save myself.
Have I failed you as a brother and a friend,
Now that we stand here at the bitter end?

Beware of the promises of men,
For they are outside looking in.
They’ll tell you what you want to hear,
And though you love them dear, they’ll never get any nearer.

The Garden of Eden whispers pleasures,
And sensations of untold treasures.
Try to hold them in your hand and you’ll see,
You’re trying to hold them in futility.

Something New

I thought that I would give this a shot and see how it went or how faithful I'd be in writing it. I am somewhat grouchy today. I feel as if I have been put in a pressure cooker for so long that I might burst. I don't know why it is that people take your kindness for weakness and think they can walk all over you. I often find myself trying to be all things to all men and I end up being burnt out in the end. It is like I pour my glass of water to refill everyone else's but the same is unrequited back to me. So I feel empty in the end. It often seems the weak will leech onto the strong and suck every last drop out of them because it is easier for them to do that than stand on their own 2 feet. But I digress.

I long to be the cheery happy go lucky man I once was but it seems that when I put away my childhood to be a man, I also put away my joy. We are taught that we we've have done all we can do to just stand. Sometimes I feel as if I have stood so long I have grown rooted in place and never able to move again. I feel like an immobile punching bag that the world enjoys punching on.

But I am as always alone even in a sea of faces. I am alone because I am a leader and no one else can carry the weight that I can nor is anyone else willing to try...