Ministering Angels

I just returned from a vacation with my mom. I went for a week. I took my son, my brother, and her. I have never seen her this frail, and this unsure of herself. She held me tight as we walked. At every step, it seemed, she would ask me, “are we going that way?” And she would point her tiny finger. I would always let her know in advance, which direction we were going, as I could see, she was very fearful, of the unknown.

I realized that she has lived her whole life this way. I remember many of these fears, she has tried to project onto me. Her mother had five girls, and she left them in the care of their grandmother to come to the city. My grandfather had a seven-year affair, which no one was supposed to speak about. My grandmother, chased him down, which my mother and I agreed, we would never do, and although she won him back, it was by default. He had a heart attack and the woman never came to the hospital to nurse him, when my grandmother did.

Finally, she had him back, but at what price? My mother and her sister’s never forgot. Their mother was gone during the formative years, and the bonding was for their grandmother, not their mother. This explains a great deal, when I deal with my own mother, and I am well aware of this. In turn, my mother had more affection toward her father, than her mother, when he did return. She told me, “We called her, ‘mother,’ isn’t that strange?” “Well,” I said, it’s rather formal.” “Yes, she said. ” I sure thought so.”

They never slept in the same room again, after they reconciled. So what was the point? You may as well as have been roommates. But each relationship is different, I suppose. We had a lot of skeletons, in our closets. It just shows you how it affects the future generations.

My mother always said, “There were five of us girls, and I was the odd one in the middle.” “No mom. You were the cream in the middle of the cookie. The very best part!” I told her. And I’m here to keep reminding you of that.” I wanted to tell her this, because I had remembered reading a psychological report from her doctors when she had her breakdown. It was after she lost my brother from spinal meningitis. I was a little girl and it was traumatic for me as well. One of the things the struck me was that the doctor made note of the fact that my mothers  sisters were so instrumental in her pain and suffering. They were the ones who had placed her children in the Children’s Home, after all. Yet, when it came to her own description of her relationship to them, she stated that she felt she was the black sheep. That because of her divorce and lack of income, she was left out. This made me very sad. At that moment of reading those words, I wished I were older to hold her and help her. But I was a child.

Now I am an adult and oddly, she is like a child. I feel the Lord allows me this time to tell her all those things that I wanted to tell her . “No mom. you are the cream in the middle of the cookie. The best part. You are the queen. You should be in a resort every day and treated like royalty.”

My son was feeling jealous yesterday at the pool. He feels rivalry with my brother at times and I have to discipline both of them for fighting. I took him and made him sit on the chair. “You should make him sit on the chair too!” “Well, I can’t, because then he’s sitting by you and both of you are fighting.”

Later, after they returned to the hotel, they fought again, and I sent him to his room. This time I went in to find him crying. I sat down and talked with him to find he needed me with him. So I told my mom. I need to cuddle with Noah for a while. I fell asleep with him and I saw her walking the halls to find me. I had to put her to bed a child. “Oh, she said, I thought you went somewhere.”No mom. I won’t go anywhere without telling you. I promise you.”

I fell asleep with my son, and I woke up again, with tears. It was the third night in a row. I had been dreaming of my mother, and I was sobbing. It was so much that my face was wet with tears and this time, I heard the Lord speaking to me. “These are ministering angels. They minister to the heirs of salvation.” He said. “Wow, so this is what this is all about, I thought. It has felt like I have been purging my soul. When I sleep, it seems as if everything I’ve been feeling inside, is coming out. It is so deep. It is as if I cry the tears my mother cannot cry.

I think these angels help me to purge everything, so that I can find the strength to make it through another day. I felt them lift me out of myself to higher ground. To get past the pain and trust in the Lord to hold it in His scarred hands.

The other day, I asked her, “Mom have you always been so terrified of everything?” She became very angry. I”m not terrified!” “Ok, mom” I said. But, I remembered something from my past. When I went to Chicago for my interview with my first airline, I was with my mom, my mother-in-law and my ex-husband. We decided to take them to Chicago for the day. It was my initial screening, which meant it was like a huge cattle call.

Hundreds of people come to this, and I wasn’t surprised. As we drove into the parking lot, my mother exclaimed, “My gosh! Look at all this competition!” At this my mother-in-law, said, “Don’t say that! You’ll scare her!”That’s when  World War III began. My mom actually said, “”I’ll scare her if I want to, she’s my daughter!” And they began to argue, as I exited the car. I didn’t let it bother me, since I had grown up with my mother’s insecurities. I had to fight against it. Anything I wanted, I had to figure out how to do it on my own. But I understood, the reason’s behind my mother’s insecurities, which made it easier to deal with. I had compassion for her. I see how difficult her life has been and I want to try to make the last stretch as smooth as I can. I want to take away the pain of some of the bad memories, when I can. And if the Lord gives me the opportunity to bring her some justice, I will do so.

I try to advocate for her. I’m not saying I always have patience. I don’t. Sometimes I snap. And then we just laugh about it. But, I love her and I protect her. And just today, walking out of a store, I see a man, running to the door to open it. Saying ” Bless you, mommy!” I see this, just like the one’s who are compassionate to my brother. These are the ones who the Lord is speaking of, when He says, “And if you give unto the least of these, then you are giving unto me.”

Running Through Water

I had another nightmare. I woke up with tears in my eyes. Frantic, heart-pounding. I remembered this so clearly.

The abandonment I felt. Helpless…totally alone.
I walked in through a door. It looked like a bank. A group of people were inside and a man followed me in.
I heard the music. Dark and foreboding. I’ve heard this before. It  seemed to signal impending doom.
I watched the people moving in slow motion. They didn’t seem to notice what I noticed. The man seemed strange, suspicious. I watched his body language and he had nothing to do. Aimless in his actions, yet again, no one seemed to notice, but me.
The man suspiciously moving toward a line, as if to do something, and then he leaves.

All of a sudden, I look up and everyone is walking out in a hurried manner. No on is speaking to me. I am panicking. I’m asking what is happening. No one is speaking. They just have terrified looks on their faces, as they exit the door, and I’m trying to move forward but I feel I’m running in water.No one hears me.

Finally, a woman looks at me and says, “we’re in danger! Leave the building!” I am at once terrified and lost. I cannot get to the exit as everyone is already gone.

I am struck by a feeling of utter abandonment and wonder why I have been left behind. Why is it that I always seem to sound the alarm, yet I am the one that is ignored? Does what I have to say or do really matter? Should I just go with the flow? Stop swimming against the current. I’m getting beaten up constantly.
As I’m running,I am also thinking does anyone know I’m here? I think I’m invisible. I was told in a recent report that I was “moralizing.” Perhaps I should just start becoming more immoral and blending. Then I won’t be left behind.

All of a sudden, the people turn around and start to return. I don’t understand this. The woman says that the danger has passed. Wow,  I guess I’ve dodged another bullet. Perhaps the real danger was outside all along.

I realize as I wake from this nightmare that I have been crying. I have a deep pain inside of me, as I know I never made it to the door and I still wonder if anyone realized this.

I felt this in the bombing I was in a few years ago. I wondered about my life then and if it was important. How many times I’ve relived this moment.
I ran down the streets and alarm gripped me as I thought of my family.

I felt this panic, a few years later, when a man had threatened me. I felt overwhelmed and bullied. Helpless. Time and time again, this has happened. I didn’t know where to turn. I felt I was, running in water.
The feeling of fear, and abandonment coming over me, as I was helpless to get out of my situation. I would call for help and no one could hear me.
A silent scream. And then, as the words even came from this mans mouth to me, “No one cares.”
I’ve heard those words over and over again in my life. I’ve tried not to entertain them in my spirit. But the enemy of my soul, had planted those seeds in my soul as a child, and torments me with them in my dreams.

Now I watch my mother and what she is going through and I wonder at the loneliness inside.
I was so hurt thinking about it and the betrayal involved, when someone asked me, “who is there for you, in all of this?”
I think this is what may be what made me think of my own ‘alone-ness.’
I get so used to taking care of others, that I sometimes forget, there really isn’t anyone for me.
In the end, it’s just me. And I find myself asking the Lord, “Do you see me Lord? Am I here? Do I count?”

Yes, it would nice to have that, ‘soul-mate,’ but it isn’t in the cards for everyone. Even Paul has said that in scripture. A relationship with the Lord has kept me strong when I was ready to fall apart.  I was reminded by a woman on my trip to Israel, that the Lord does not forget our tears.She told me that they have actually done studies and noticed that ‘tears of joy and tears of sorrow,’ have two different chemical properties. I was fascinated by this,. I know this was true with breast milk. I studied this very same thing when I was nursing my children. So many properties, that haven’t yet been determined in the milk and each specifically designed for the baby. Even the premature baby with the fat content for that baby. It amazed me to the point of declaring, “How can someone not believe in a Glorious, Personal Creator?”

As we discussed the tears I thought of the scriptures. The Lord tells us that “He stores up all of our tears in a jar.” He also tells us that one day He will personally, “wipe every tear from our eyes.” This woman told me that in biblical days they had ‘Tear Bottles,’ and they would catch their tears and save them. They considered them so priceless. She had purchased one when she was on her last trip to Israel,and I searched endlessly,but alas, I did not find one. I’m sure the Lord knows mine would have been over flowing by now. But, this is a beautiful picture to me.

Today,, I flew with a girl, that had asked me those questions, and I told her, “I have a hard time because I am more of a care-taker. I guess, I just don’t expect to be taken care of.”
“Yes, she said, but you need some people around you to support you. You have to have someone to hold you up once in a while.”
It was a sweet comment, and I certainly do believe that. I have prayed for that too, but it hasn’t happened. I told her, “It’s not that I want sympathy or anything. I don’t. I have accepted some things in my life.

Then she encouraged me to keep writing. “Your stories are fascinating and you have so much to tell. You really need to write this down. Besides, it’s very cathartic.”
“Well, that’s why I tell the stories,” I told her. “That’s very cathartic, as well. “Just to share them.”
She also told me that the flight attendants would buy every one of my books. So already, I’d be ahead of my flight attendant salary! I laughed.

This is when I must have dredged up all the feelings that I had, of my present troubles, and the new drama unfolding.
The realization, that I am by myself, as I face this battle.  Oh, I know I always have the Lord as my protector and my guide, but there must be a reason for this. If it is to make me strong, well then, who am I to question His purpose in the plan?
All my life I have been asking Him in my deepest solace, “Do you see me, Lord?” So I think that perhaps the meaning is in the Beatitudes”

He does see us, but we shall also see Him.
“Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God, and the pure in heart, shall SEE God!”

In the end, this is my reward. More