A Rebel Song of Victory
" and from under the rubble came the faint sound of music. It welled and swelled until the distinct and glorious sounds of a victory song filled the air!"
I have never felt comfortable here in this world, this life, this manifestation of my physical experience. Watching me try to navigate my way through this world, I imagine, was as uncomfortable to watch as it has been for me to live. Looking back, the manifestation of a violent addiction made perfect sense in the natural progression of my being so disconnected from myself and the world around me. It makes sense because the longer I lived, the harder it became to silence the screams of the pieces of me that were dying, every day, and falling away, similar to how a limb that is gangrene and necrotic and no longer able to maintain its existence with the body.
I would not be honest if I said that my moment of Radical Surrender was the result of careful planning and wise choices on my part. It was not. But just as the body knows to gasp for air when oxygen levels are low or the instinctive reaction to move quickly when danger is present, my soul one day managed to sputter a simple yet fervent, “Help me, please.” Yes, that would be the more accurate account of the moment I relinquished myself to the care of the One greater than I. And thus began the journey of learning the skills of what for me had always been, “a supreme effort of being.” The intensity of being awake, I once believed, was so excruciating, and was to be avoided by any means necessary.
Once the many and varied “soul subduing” vices in my life were removed, I quickly realized that I was going to have to learn how to “stay present” in my life. I no longer could justify the literal and figurative lateral excursions I took from my life. The thick, foggy veil of denial and delusion, once lifted, exposed the stark and unfiltered reality of my true condition. Unless you have found yourself in this particular place, carrying the bloody shards of a fractured mind and the pulpy remnants of what was once a heart, I believe that the pain of being allowed to see and feel the unfiltered, stark reality of one’s true condition and how this pathology has affected everything within its reach, the pain of that moment can be so violent, that having never learned to feel or manage emotional processes, there is an in immediate danger of retreating quickly from these truths, relapsing, and then returning to that dark, cold Place far away from our lives and who God intended for us to be.
Repeatedly, I have been told “feelings will not kill you,“ but I humbly and fervently assert, that the only reason I managed to survive the centric blast that annihilated anything that I once knew or believed or thought was loving and familiar or even mine, was because I instinctively wrapped my exquisite pain of shattered delusions swiftly into the love and compassion of my God and Creator. I emphatically believe that one must not tarry in this place for very long without a protective buffer of a God that is greater than one’s self and who possesses the Power to make right what has become so horribly wrong. This, coupled with the love and prayers of a supportive network of people that are intimately acquainted with the nature of the battle we are engaged in, is absolutely essential for us to be able to make it to the other side of an experience such as this. Further, I believe that measures of relief will be required from time to time as we continue on this Journey so that we are able to catch our breaths and fortify ourselves so that we are properly nourished and able to continue the intricate work of this stage of the Process of finding the reasons and also the “hows” of staying present in a place that, for me, never felt like home in the first place.
I didn’t know, at that point, that my life had always had the value, purpose, and meaning that I always searched for. I just never seemed to be able to find those things. I didn’t understand that my divine lesson plans had already been written when, at the age of 10, I discovered and read, “Hind’s Feet on the High Places.” Looking back, I marvel at how I somehow managed to always have a ragged, dog-eared copy with me that I re-read from time to time, as I went from the wounded child to the scared mother and abused/rejected wife to the depressed patient to dysfunctional/dangerous adult to the cunning addict (and all the insanity that encompasses that identity) to finally...complete and utter and exhaustive dereliction and destitution; spiritually, mentally and physically. Thankfully, my Creator, “the best Knower,” knew.
So then one day, at the 3 year mark of sobriety, I became dimly aware of the fact that I was on a journey that was very spiritual in nature, and being true to the sophomoric (wise fool) scholar that I am known to be, I announced proudly and very publicly that it was time for me to “transition” to the next level and I am going to- (dramatic drum roll)
“Follow God Around the Corner...To the Places I Cannot See!”
...and that “Truth shall be my walking stick!” My, how lofty and noble I thought that sounded. I can almost laugh now at my naivete and grandiosity and love for the dramatic beginnings and arduous middles, fraught with fear, danger, and betrayal, till finally, a big ol’ “brang it on home to my daddy,” Denouement!! I can almost laugh about it now...but not quite yet.
I honestly believed in my heart of hearts, as I laced up my new traveling shoes, that my travel guides, who hadn’t arrived yet, were going to be like the “super-duos” that my imagination loved to invent. I waited piously and resolutely for, “Peace and Perfection!” or “Triumph and Transformation!” or “Victory and Vindication!” or “Peace and Perfection!” or “Power and Passion!” (I honestly can do this for days in my head. It can be an issue) Why, if I were as clever as I thought I was, did I not remember who the guides were in my beloved book, Hind’s Feet?” They were Sorrow and her sister, Suffering. I know now that that was a pretty important piece of information to consider before embarking upon such a journey but thankfully, this time, my mind didn’t consult with its oh so clever self and come to the best conclusion that this was NOT the best or safest option and that an alternate plan of action would need to be developed… (see how quick I made that lateral excursion into fantasy and grandiosity?)
It didn’t take long for me to learn the necessity of learning to yield to the dynamic of Surrender. For it was only then, after some long dark nights alone, when the dark would only get darker still, and I was so very lost and unable to even remember why I had started this madness in the first place, that my God and Teacher, would come striding confidently around the corner, LIKE A BOSS, and start kicking over formidable obstacles and removing the clever traps that had been laid by random or more treacherous still, familial neerdowells that would have rejoiced at the moment that they would have to tell the world, “We were right. She was damaged and broken beyond repair. Tragic loss. So grateful that we loved her for the short time she was with us.”
I remember Him taking the time to properly re-introduce Himself so that we could have a fresh start in our new relationship. And thankfully, it was during this time that He started applying the soothing tinctures and healing elixirs to all of my tender, raw, hurting places that resulted from the plaga prima or "first wound" that had been neglected and as a result was infected and festering until finally, it had metastasized with its poisonous tentacles entangled and deeply rooted into my soul.
It was during this time that I practiced saying, over and over, "Abba Father...please consider me." This practice was vital because it seems to just be the nature of (wo)man to become smug or complacent; thinking that we have mastered our lives and our processes of restoration as we experience and enjoy the times of the Journey that are pleasant and without storms and trials. Yes, I am grateful for the paces I was put through in the earlier days of this remarkable experience that taught me specific skill sets that would prove to be indispensable time and time and time again. From those early days to this very day that I sit here trying to tell this amazing story, I have yet to find any other place that compares to that Particular place. As I mature and learn more of the character of my Beloved, I know better than I know my own name, that nothing else or any other experience in this life can compare to the
~euphoria, elation, exhilaration, and exultation~
of finding, claiming, and living within my purpose for being. This Place is so pristine and filled with a glorious light that bathes me in the radiance of redemption. I believe beyond believing, that when we are in this particular place, it is a true and veritable fact, that we are then, our most beautiful and most perfect, most Free and authentic and connected to the One who is:
"Ego sum alpha et omega, primus et novissimus principium et finis."
I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End
All Rights Reserved. Lisa Partee/Ruby TruthSeeker. 2018
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