Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Beginning of Forever

Come quietly
for she desires not to be awakened
her soul is tired
and sleep is the only remedy

Lay your hands on her face
and whisper gently
softly pray your prayers
for tonight, the angels entertain

Gaze on mortal essence
eternal beauty that never fades
nutured wounds healed with loyalty
pain cured with sincere tenderness

Speak words of wisdom
for the mind is more potent than demise
all new things start with an end
a beginning prepared for the innocent

Shed a tear for what was known and destroyed
touch the soul of another
so life will continue to influence
what forever is forever

Copyright © 2004 Olivia M. Hall/Inspired by Grace.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Disgusted with Society: Usage of "Hero"

There has been a notion surfacing in my soul concerning society and the casual usage of the word “hero.” This may be the most unyielding topic and opinion of mine thus far.
The Webster’s Dictionary defines a hero as: “A person noted for feats of courage or nobility of purpose, especially one who has risked or sacrificed his or her life.”
What causes such regret is how our society, especially media, portrays a “hero” to our country. Not only does one deal with the declining image of our bodies, family, and success because of the television, it also speaks of unworthy people and compares them to the meaning above.
How is a sports player even in the same realm as a hero? Sports are great. I love football and you would have laughed at my victory dance when the Red Sox won! (I commend Red Sox pitcher for denying the usage of "hero" as a term associated with sports). However, the base line shifts when athletes are compared to men and women like our firemen, policemen, and medical force. Do sports players have "courage for a purpose"? And if you argue, “to win the game” then why does that matter? What would happen if they did not? Nothing! Life would go on, just the same as it was before the game.
View the alternative hero, let’s say, the firemen. What happens if he or she “wins” the fire? A life is saved! What happens if a fireman does not do the job? It is obvious; people get seriously injured and even die.
If we chose to accept such an offensive view of our heroes, then what are we saying to all the men and women who serve our country in the military? Like I have written previously, it is easy to ignore the things that cause fear and doubt in our minds. But, the people who do risk their lives to protect us and care for us deserve this special title. Yes, some athletes do represent honest people one can learn from, but let us reserve “hero” for those who truly sacrifice their hearts.
In these days where we are so careless with much, words and people we love and honor need to be protected. My hero’s are my doctor’s. Among them, I have learned of gentle spirits whose lives are lived almost solely to save others. They are heroes because they do surrender their own lives to help others.
For those of us who are willing to refuse media’s intrusive, unrealistic, and shameful fabrications, the future is promising.
There is much to say concerning this topic, but I will leave it at this for the sake of not writing a novel just yet. If this causes accepted wisdom, imagine how much daily conversation could change. What would it be like if one paid attention to the way we use our tongues?


“The tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself on fire by hell.
All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and creatures of the sea are being tamed by man, but no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.”
James 3:5-7

A Symbolic Me

Something amazingly odd occurred the other night...
I was sitting in church with my family. It was evening and the time change sunk the sunlight early and left darkness over the building. I felt weak as often my illness uses my energy before the sun goes down. We walked in sat down towards the back. Service started and I have to make a confession, I could not wait for it to be over. My heart was not there, I felt fake, and I did not want to be around all these people I would have to place a mask over my face for. But it was too late. I sat there, arms crossed, checked my watch. That is when I noticed her. It was two rows in front of me. A girl, my age and she was crying uncontrolably. Tears flowed like a fountain down her cheeks and she started to rock gently back and forth. It was as if she were looking for something and could not find it. Her face pained in wonder and she yelled. This time I heard it, "Why?" she said as she lifted her hands toward the low ceiling.
At this point I blinked my eyes. I have never seen anyone interrupt a service like this before. Who was she? Has she been coming here long? It was my first time visiting where I was. I did not know most there, including her. I decided I must try and ignore her. It did not seem like anyone else was making an effort to help her. Actually now that I think about it. No one even seemed to notice her. Everyone faced forward singing and smiling. I too, tried it for a while. Then "thump" she fell on the ground and lay there grabbing her feet to her chest, gasping for air, and closing her eyes tight. Her eyes were red now, very puffy. Still no one looked at her. I couldn't believe it! I mean come on people!? I was not a member there, but I had enough "heart" to notice her and hear her cries and see she was on the floor now. If she were making it up, who cares, she obviously has problems. Everyone sat down as asked. She lay motionless her hands clenched. I could see them in the aisle. "What is wrong with everyone?" I thought. Maybe I was dreaming, but I was not. I was there, she was there, and everyone was...there.
I could not take it anymore. I had to say something. She was a person in pain. Wasn't that the reason for church anyway? To be there for those who are hurting? I started to walk over to her. It was only a few steps away from me, but I felt like it was from here to the moon. Everyone starred at me as if I was the one who was making the scene. A gentlemen grabbed my arm and we exchanged words...
"Miss, where are you going? Service is not over yet."
"Sir, Can't you see she needs help?"
"Who are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on! The girl right there laying on the floor sobbing!"
My voice was loud now, but I did not care. I wanted the whole place to know. The people, the preacher, and God! "She has been crying the whole service! And all everyone has done is just stand there and sing. Her heart must be in a thousand pieces, and no one has even approached her to comfort her."
I knew I hit a nerve when everyone turned and faced me. There was a low rustling of voices throughout the crowd. There were some who giggled, those who looked at me in disgust, and others who decided they were going to leave.
"That girl has been coming here for almost 1 year! All she ever does is cry and wail." One said.
"I don't even know why you are making this a big deal," another raised there voice. "She looks a lot better than she did months ago. I mean she looks really good. Her face, eyes, and body have healed!"
Someone went over to her and handed her something.
"I don't see anyone there needing help. She's smiling. Look!"
I turned around and saw her sitting in the chair. She did not look sad at all. How could this be? Was I going insane? Maybe, but not today! I knew I saw her crying out, why was she smiling all of a sudden? I went over to her finally and then knew why. Her tears bleed threw the mask the man gave her only moments before.
"Take it off?" I asked her.
"No," she whispered. "I wear this so others would not have to see my pain, I wear this mask to make them feel better. After all, if they knew the pain inside of me I will be rejected for good. If they could glimpse only for a second into my soul they would see how deep my sorrow is."
I did not know what to do. She seemed frightened. I grabbed her hand. It was ice cold.
"Come on," I said, "you can stay with me."

Copyright © 2004 Olivia M. Hall/Inspired by Grace.

(This is only a symbolic story representing how easy it is to ignore people in pain. How often do we walk by those we know are hurting and ask how everything is with a smile on our face? Pain is real and unavoidable. The only thing that makes understanding it difficult is one must encounter pain itself to be knowledgeable and helpful to others.)

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Back Right Where I Started

When I am unable to express my thoughts and feeling I usually resort to poetry, but tonight I have looked at this blank white screen usually bursting with potential, and I can not accurately explain my heart. In fact I have attempted three times already to write this blog tonight, and now I am writing about writing the blog!
A lot is going on in my life right now. Too much. Perhaps I am in overload. Maybe, however, I know the truth and wont allow myself to accept it and change.
Have you ever felt as though you knew something and were proud of it and then in one instant you realized you were probably the dumbest person on earth?
It is like the fifty states. I know them. It took me a long time to memorize them in grade school. When I did, I was proud. I made and A on the test. Then I discovered I needed to learn all the countries and their capitals.
Well, now I feel as though I am that girl again. However, I am expected to know the countries, capitals, all the main governmental issues associated with the country, what the economic status is, how the US can efficiently attend their needs, all universal codes connected with them, and finally recognize the countries flag, bird, all main ocean's, rivers, and lakes.
My point is, I feel as though I was starting to understand things and now I am back where I started. I hate that!
I worked on a media illustration today for 3 hours. I had to use back up data CD's to load the information onto the computer again so I could edit the project I was working on. I have successfully done this before and knew the time I was about to put into it. I was on the last data entry when the program I was using froze. I tried to revive it, and when I knew it was lost, I thought of how I was going to have to do it all over again. I was right where I started 3 hours ago. Losing information like this is dreadful. Thank God I never lost an Exegesis paper. I worked on those 3 weeks in advance.
I guess maybe life for me right now is kind of the same as when I was in the hospital, two steps forward and three steps back. (Although possibly the big fat bruise on my right foot is slowing me down. aka:"Chawennie'ing is a Dangerous Sport"12/3/04 issue.
I mean come on!? Have you ever bruised the bottom of you foot!!??? It is pure pain.)
I am getting somewhere, eventually, I think, but not in the timing I want. Maybe God wants me to notice my surroundings a little more.
I am willing to be willing.





Friday, December 03, 2004

Chawennie'ing: A Dangerous Sport

I was in a great mood yesterday when I decided to "Chawennie" down the hall and chase my dog, Gracey. I started on one end of the house and took off full speed ahead! I did not see the "speed bump" trap ahead placed by her. Then I stepped on one of her toys, it rolled on the bottom of my foot, made a crack sound and the next thing I know I was on the floor.
Now, looking back I could imagine Gracey, sitting there, tongue out, ears pointed in alertness, in her "Lassie" persona, saying, "What is it Livy? You need help! I will run and get the doctor!" She would take off in slow motion like Lassie on TV and rescue her injured owner and the world would be safe again.
Instead of seeing my dear precious dog run for help or lay by me in sympathy, she proceeded to jump on my head, bark at me as I yelled in pain, and dig in my hair!
Being crippled and in major pain I had no ability to make her stop. The minute I would push her away or say stop, she would bark and continue to "play" her game.
I screamed a little more and then started to laugh. After all I had a great hair-do like no one has seen! The Chawennie fluff.
Finally after several attempts, I pulled myself up and stumbled down the stairs, and sat on the couch until someone could come and investigate my injury.
It turns out it is probably a torn or stretched ligament, but it hurts and it is bruised bad. I guess from now on I need to be careful when I "Chawennie."
It is a dangerous sport.