Chapter 44. Awakening

I haven’t had to reckon with that kind of tragedy. Aware that I have been dealt a pretty good hand overall in the game of life, I recognize that life also holds many good things.

A particularly signature moment for me, on the heels of some tumultuous years, is this one:

In summer of 2002, while on a camping family vacation at Temperance River State Park, I join my boys in a swim upstream to one of the near falls. As usual for these North Shore rivers emptying into Lake Superior, even in August the water is cold, but usually bearable for either a quick dip or rigorous swim. One of the camping kids swimming in the river had just ventured up to a waterfall not far upstream and invites fellow river swimmers to come and see the fall. 

Seth, Mark, and Dan start after him,and I too feel drawn by the invitation. We carefully choose paths in the stream where the water runs slower, climb rock ledges to get around fast-moving currents, cling to rock faces where the current is relentless, rest in little eddies where the rock has a concave curve face.

Rebekah and Gregg watch with some concern as we move upstream. We make it to a falls; the water pouring over the steep ledge is roarous and drowns out speech. 

We take it all in: the rush of water, the power of the natural, the exquisite beauty of our stark surroundings.

In that moment, I have a deep appreciation – of sound and strength of the water rushing over me at this waterfall, of my body’s ability to swim upstream, of the real and symbolic beauty of it all.

I later identify this trip to the falls as significant in encouraging me to let go of depression medication a month or so after that. It is a key event for me to see that I can push myself – move upstream – as needed or desired.

“One day you finally knew 

what you had to do, and began...

Determined to do 

the only thing you could do –

Determined to save 

the only life you could save.” 

– Mary Oliver, The Journey

Journal entries of 2002 include focus on ministry and not much recording of misery. More positive quotes appear on the pages, such as:

“Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future; faith is the courage to dance to it today.”

“Beauty is that which, when seen, pleases.” 

– Thomas Aquinas

A recap of a few family happenings for the first day of April 2002: we pick up Becky from the airport upon her return from a trip to Japan to visit previous exchange student and friend Manayo, prepare for Mark to leave on a choir trip to New Orleans, appreciate that Seth just returned safely from a Montana spring break trip, deal with Dan’s high school attitude (with me demanding respect from him).

Easter happens at Mike and Anne’s – I feel “invisible” as I often times do with my biological family. When recounting how I feel, Gregg says to me, “You’re the likeable one.” Seth says, “I like you, Mom.”

Sweet, and helpful for my too tender ego.

I am focusing also, from spring into summer 2002, on concern for the church, and on joy. On the first day of June I write,

At Alwyn’s recital last night there was a little girl who had the most illuminating smile. We noticed her last year too. I was so attracted to her and that genuine smile – it spoke to me of JOY.

And that you, God, want me to have that same kind of joy that her engaging sweet light-up-the-room smile provoked.

Also that you look on me with that kind of joy!

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks for this is Gods’ will or you in Christ Jesus.”

– I Thess. 5:16-18

“In your presence is fullness of joy…” 

- Psalms 16:11

It’s an inherent, inner aliveness. Joy is almost entirely an inside job. Joy is not first determined by the object enjoyed as much as by the prepared eye of the enjoyer. 
- Richard Rohr, Divine Dance

Juxtaposed alongside of joy is a search to understand the darker emotions. In the next few years I read much about depression, hormones, brain, addiction, essential oils, healing of the spirit, and effects of stress (my favorite book on stress: Why Don’t Zebras get Ulcers? and a favorite story in it is the mishandling of rats leading to the discovery of adrenal gland involvement in stress- it’s downright comical).

I have a beginning awareness of my tendencies toward numbness and a sleepy spirit. I am fascinated by an idea of a kiss of love, as this excerpt from “Healing the Wounded Spirit” by the John and Paula Sanford, expands upon,

“Our most beloved fairy tales tell the story of slumbering and captive spirits! …
we know deep within us that it is about us. Snow White eats the poisoned apple – the poisoned fruit of life without affection – and falls asleep! The seven dwarfs represent our dwarfed talents. Who needs to be told who the wicked queen represents? Or the Prince Charming – Jesus? And how does he bring Snow White to life? By a kiss! It is love alone which can wake us from sleep.


How about “The Sleeping Beauty”? The princess pricks her finger on the distaff – work without expressions of love becomes drudgery – and falls asleep. All the servants and creatures in the castle fall asleep for a hundred years (as do all our talents and capabilities). Hedges and thorns surround the castle (much as we grow defensive prickly walls about our inner being). Prince Charming (Jesus) hacks his way through the thorns with his flaming sword (of truth), slays the dragon (Satan), and enters our castle. 

Again, it is by the kiss of love that the princess and all her court awaken.” (P 135)

I prepare and give retreat talks – just a few. My speaking ‘career’ doesn’t take off. I tell an intense story, try to suggest some helps that may or may not be applicable to others, don’t mix in enough lightheartedness. I’m not a natural speaker, am mostly wit-less. Likely too it’s still too much about me. Folks sense that. But the processing that goes with presentation preparation is good for me. I am more aware of joy and love.

I am a calmer seer of my dramas.

I am awakening.