PainJunkie

This is the kind of lonely song that comes from wearing my heart on my sleeve for one woman.

 I Am Rain That Was Meant to Pour

Only true love can truly hurt

It's ours, but we don't get any say

It tears us apart to remind us how close

We've grown day after day 

My bags are in the car

Paycheck's telling me to go

And as I walk out the door, I know

I am rain that was meant to pour

I'll unpack my heartache

And beat the sunset until it cries

I'll hate myself for staring at the TV

Until my boredom finally dies

I'm giving all my secrets away

Like a busker on an empty metro quay

Now, just what was the last thing that you wore?

I am rain that was meant to pour

Memories are like a jester

That can only make people cry

This room couldn't be more empty

And I'm bluer than the sky

We were made to hurt each other

We found all we ever wanted

But never looked for

And, I'm just rain that was meant to pour

© John R. Durant

(From my hand-written journal yesterday while on a plane over the Atlantic)

I think, in the end, Heaven is a place where all our love, like every perfect feeling I have for Carolyn and my boys, goes. And, those feelings--- that love--- is put in a safe with no walls, where no one can ever interrupt it. It will never diminish. It just grows and grows.

jrd

Giving is vital. But, it is also good to receive. I am not talking about selfishly taking. I'm talking about humbly receiving. Too often, our pride, stubbornness, or other feelings get in the way of receiving what is selflessly, graciously, and kindly offered—everything from a compliment to a generous gift of financial aid or other assistance. Receiving gifts of any sort that are benevolently given by others is very different from taking. Taking implies seizing or capturing what is not offered. This impulse, too, may come from pride and other unproductive feelings.

God knew that we might need some guidance on the humbling and sanctifying act of receiving when He declared, "Deny not the gifts of God for they are many." Those gifts come in many ways.

Earlier this year I was chatting with a friend who lives back near my home town (hurray for Minnesota!), and we connect now and again. He and his family had fallen on hard times given the state of the world economy and so forth. When things were at their most difficult and bleak, he received the help that was beyond what he could have ever expected from family and friends. He's a hard-working and self-made kind of man. I know it was hard for him to accept help But, it was a moving thing to hear of his gratitude.

Five years ago I was blasted by a car while riding my bicycle. My body and brain took severe blows that nearly annihilated me. Recovering (to where I am now) tested me to the limits of my will to live. One day, when a very close friend was visiting with his family from Ephrata Washington, he inquired how I was doing with the various pains and difficulties. After an uplifting visit, they returned home, and just a week or so later we received an enormous shipment at our door. It was a Sleep Number bed, an adjustable sleeping surface that has helped many people with injuries sleep more comfortably. I couldn't hold back the tears as I thought of the generosity of my friend and his family. I phoned him, and expressed my appreciation and surprise. He insisted that repayment was not necessary, and all I could do is thank him with all of the sincerity I possess.

The gifts we receive are never really about "things". They are really about something deeper, something more lasting and important. Think about a compliment. I have taught my sons that when someone compliments them on something they have done well or on how they look etc., they should be gracious and say simply, "Thank you." Sometimes people feel the need to dismiss a compliment, not wanting to sound arrogant or boastful. Modesty is vita, of course. But, modesty also includes accepting compliment, because all good things do not come from us anyway. To reject the gift of another also denies the giver of the blessings of giving.

Let me explain with an example. When someone says, "You sing so beautifully," some respond, "Nah. I really suck. I wish I were so much better." Saying this suggests the other person was wrong, it rejects a gift, a compliment, that was genuinely extended. It is better to just say, "Thank you. How kind of you to say." When I receive a compliment such as this I think, "I'm grateful for the gifts God has given me." All good things come from Him.

Life will always present with opportunities to give, to receive, and even to take. Giving and receiving are two aspects of the same charity. They both involve humility and a willingness to look beyond ourselves, to think about others. Of course, we should do all we can to not be a burden to others, to "carry our own water" so to speak. But, when we are in need, when, after all we can do, we find ourselves in difficulty, it is a beautiful thing to receive the gifts of God with gratitude. When we are in a position to give, we should give from that same sense of gratitude and love--- Grace.

In the end, when the stage of mortality is dismantled, and we've all gone home, we'll all need a generous helping of Grace.

JRD

An unforgiving city granted an act of mercy, sending me off into the sky--- lonely little Moses in a cradle of steel floating on a river of air. Solitude gives rise to a peculiar reverence. The memory of a loved one is a priest to whom we confess a future that may never be. That's when a heart truly breaks. In the utter vulnerability of that moment we are strong as we can ever be.

Landscapes are intimidating. The earth's generosity and ferocity seem unintentional. It is never distracted from its destiny—to carve canyons out of granite tables, to force trees and grass out of stony ground, to drive mountains up further up into the sky—a giant engine of perpetual, insouciant change. And, its by-product is a circumstance in which we thrive against the odds, and luck seems to go our way. In the accidental bounty the planet provides we create the things that can never be the result of chance: love, humanity, selflessness, compassion. If luck is defying chance, then we can say we are lucky beyond measure.

Rivers, mountains, sprawling meadows, and oceans don't know what true luck looks like. But, we do. Luck is the shape of a child's smile. It is the warmth of a lover's kiss. Luck is unguarded laughter of children at play. It is the gentle pressure of a baby's hand around your finger. It is looking into your lover's eyes and knowing that you are understood, accepted, and known.

Chance, landscape, luck, humanity, uncertainty, and change--- weighty thoughts while I leave the capital of counterfeit luck-- where many people desperately chase what they know is an inevitable mirage. I depart richer than when I arrived: the true treasures of my life acquired yet a little more value, became a little more dear while I was a stranger in a strange land.

I was once at a store with my boys, and they were rolling in on their Heely shoes. As we passed the fellow at the door who verifies whether one has a membership card he loudly barked, "Hey! You guys can't roll on those in here!" His reaction was over-the-top; it was harsh and unkind. I paused and waited. Then, I drew close to the man and gently put my hand on his shoulder. I said in a quiet voice, audible to just him and me, "Sir, these are good boys here. It is good to speak to them kindly, and they will listen. I want you to work on that—to say things kindly first." He was a little stunned, because I think he was expecting me to be angry. He then replied with a bit of a stutter, "Oh….Uh… Yeah. I'm sorry." I smiled, and we walked on. I felt at peace. I hope the man at the door felt that way too. There was no confrontation or anger between us. I wish I always reacted so kindly in such situations.

We have all experienced interactions where things escalated quickly and disproportionately. People seem quick to anger over small things. We sometimes treat each other as if we're not people at all—as if we are just nobodies—gears in a big machine that will ultimately fail us. We can say to ourselves, "That person is just a customer." Or "Hey—she's just a cashier", and "He's just a guy work with." Then, we treat that [fill in the blank human functional character] in a less human way—keeping the distance between us. In so doing, we're acting on instinct, following the least elevated inclinations of ourselves. We use the word "just" to reduce the people around us to someone less than they really are.

What if we looked at each other more as compassionate people first? Sure, there are times we won't agree. Yes, there are times when there will be gaps in understanding. But, let's not forget we're people after all. Like it or not, we're on this big stage together. I like the simple words of a children's song:

I want to be kind to everyone, for that is right you see

So I say to myself, "Remember this: kindness begins with me"

--John