Spiritual Things Matter

This Mother’s Day, the one person that comes to mind who has inspired me to become an even better mother is, Elisabeth Fritzl. This courageous Austrian woman has astonished so many of us with her efforts to give her children some sense of normalcy in an incredible abnormal environment. Her mother’s heart gave and kept on giving, although she only received profound sorrow and pain which lasted nearly a quarter of a century. The decorations in her tiny cellar moved me to tears as it shows so clearly that she remembered the stars and the moon which once represented her freedom. She shared that with her children, as was obvious, when her youngest child pointed to the moon and asked if God lived there. Her brokenness is severe and deep. May we wrap her and her children into our hearts and remember them in our prayers…even long after this story is no longer in the forefront.

Dear Brave Soul, Happy Mother’s Day!

Slowly emerging from all that was dark
into the light - which seems so painfully bright.
Slowly, very slowly, each step must be taken -
into freedom…..as senses are overwhelmed
by the generosity of life.

Love and life will embrace you soundly
Goodness and kindness are there to lift you up.
You are a part of our life!
You are a part of our world!
Welcoming you openly -
for love will embrace you all around.

Life with all its complexities
with all its painful sorrows and tears,
cannot be explained with our,
so very limited eyes of understanding -
for only one piece of the puzzle we see.

Yet, life remains a wondrous gift to be lived
with so much love and mysteries yet to be had.
We welcome you with all our hearts!
Embracing you with so much love!
And, with many, many tender thoughts that, now at last,
peace for you and your children will flourish -
forever…holding you securely - far above.

Thank you, oh, brave and fragile soul,
for loving your children - despite it all.
Thank you for teaching them with the little that you had.
Thank you for your astounding bravery and courage.
And thank you, oh, dear tender soul,
for having truly done your very, very best!

May the sun shine tenderly on you -
May her warmth bring healing comfort to your broken heart.
May the wind whisper his eternal truths into your ears
And may you sense his abiding strength as well as his tender mercies.
May the rain fall extra gently upon your brow.
And may each tender droplet bring new rhythm to your thoughts.
May your tears flow freely that you might feel again and begin to heal.
May life bring its beauty to you -
With generosity and with grace.
May it envelope you with new truth and new hope -
That you may find your own beauty which abides richly in you.
And, may Love embrace you and your children -
As our world cradles you firmly and tenderly in her prayers.

Happy Mother’s Day, our very dear Elisabeth!

Viola M. Jaynes
Mother’s Day 2008

…the flower withers, but the seed remains. ~Kahlil Gibran

Each year, at Easter, my mind wanders back to my orphanage years. Easter was celebrated by going to church, and then later hunting for eggs that we all painted together.

One year, when I was about eight years old, I received a package in the mail. It was a huge surprise since I had never received a package before. I was excited and very curious as to who would send me a gift and I wondered just what might be in it. I noticed that the package was from my brother, Jean.

Approximately six months prior to Easter that year, my brother had been adopted out of the orphanage by an older couple who had lost a baby during WW II. It had been their only child; the mother had been unable to nourish her baby with her breast milk because they had been fleeing the Nazis and had been malnourished. The baby died in her arms. Years later, this same couple wanted to adopt a son. My brother was one year younger than I and we were very close. I was always very protective of him. Even though he had his own set of friends in the orphanage, we were fortunate to be in the same group since many siblings were split up.

I remember the day when that couple came to pick up my brother. We were at “Fraule’s” house. There had been no forewarning to my brother or myself that a couple was interested in adopting him. The couple liked me as well and expressed an interest in me, but they could not take me because my mother had never signed any papers of release for me. She had only signed papers for my two brothers and my youngest brother had already been adopted a number of years before. I don’t know why my mother did not release me.

It was a strange day, one moment my brother and I were together and the next moment he was gone from my life. I felt empty and alone. I felt sad and forgotten.

Nevertheless, that Easter a package came in the mail from my brother. As I opened the package, I reached in with curiosity and excitement that only a child could feel. I pulled out a little pink rabbit. What happened after that was beyond my own understanding. I clutched that little pink rabbit and started to cry as I had never cried before. I fell down to my knees and wailed with sadness because for the very first time, I could physically feel my heart break. I then realized he was not coming back and I would not see him again. I felt lonely and abandoned and in that moment all of my emotions which I could not put into words, came to the surface.

That little pink rabbit was somehow lost in the orphanage. The loss of my brother, Jean, however, has always stayed with me. The pain of that moment was so profound and deep that all I have been able to do is to deal with it at the various stages of my life. Today, in my mid 40’s, I write about it. Over 30 years would pass before I would see my brother again; in 1996, Jean, called me because he was getting married and he wanted me, his sister, to be a part of this special moment in his life. I was ecstatic and could hardly wait to see him again after so many years.

I am happy for people who have siblings with whom to share their joys and sorrows. My own two children have each other and I try to teach them never to take one another for granted. I always tell them that none of us knows what tomorrow may hold because one moment something is ours and the next moment it can be gone forever. I also try to teach them the value of spiritual truth which will abide forever. Hans Christian Andersen says, “The human life is a story told by God.” No matter what the story may be, may it always bring honor to the One who has created us. God’s love can heal all broken hearts. I truly believe that!

At the heart of our loss is gain - unseen, and yet eternal.
At the heart of our gain is loss through too much knowing.
At the heart of our joys are mysteries that remain untold.
At the heart of our tears is wisdom - embracing the cycles of life,
thus, finding stillness and peace within.

~Viola M. Jaynes

Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom; mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power.
~Lao Tzu

I read a wonderful essay that Dr. Sanity wrote which gave me so much to think about. If you like, you can read it in its entirety. She speaks of the defense mechanism strategies that we humans use in order to protect ourselves and then she says the following:

“The most psychologically healthy of these strategies are those that allow us to transform primitive instinctual energy of even the most destructive emotions into works of art or entertainment that give pleasure to others (sublimation and humor); or behavior that is socially beneficial (altruism, anticipation, suppression). People who achieve optimal psychological health are those who have come to satisfactory terms with their neurobiology. They are people who have learned to accept their anger, rage and other potentially deadly emotions and, instead of destructively acting out, repressing, denying or projecting; have creatively expressed those feelings in a way that improves life both for themselves and for others.”

In my younger years, I used to be so embarrassed when feelings of anger and even rage would rise up from within. I would try to hide the anger and suppress it as long as possible and only on very few occasions did someone close enough to me even gain a glimpse into the frustration that I often felt. I remember once, when studying at a school of ministry and also employed at the same place, the pastor once asked me very calmly and lovingly, “Viola, who are you mad at?” My reply was, “I’m not mad at anyone.” In fact, I did not, at the time, really fully understand just how angry I really was. I did not even understand why he was asking me that question since I was going about doing my usual work.

Because I grew up without parents and without my siblings, I, not only had to learn to “parent” myself in many situations, but I also had become accustomed to simply handling whatever came along and burying much of the fear and insecurities that I was feeling. Too much of the time, I was an island unto myself and would not talk through things with anyone. After I gained my independence and began to established a life of my own, I found myself weeping quite a bit. I could not understand where so many tears could come from and I took note that it was from such a deep place in me.

It was only with added years that I have learned to understand myself better. When I would gain a glimpse into my own heart, I would simply cry out to God to heal me and to help me. I would turn my anger over to Him, each and every time it arose, and I would be honest enough to recognize it for what it was. I started to give myself much more room to allow emotions to come to the top and than examine them as honestly as I could with the understanding that I had at the time. That was not always easy as I also had to work through embarrassment and the tendency to simply hide. As Dr. Sanity so aptly described, however, I came to a place in my life where I could accept my anger and my rage and allow the transformative power that lay in my own heart to change me. Often, it seemed that the changes were so minute, but with time, with much time, I realized that I was on my way to becoming a whole person.

It is good to know that it is just fine to be angry and to be even full of rage. It is equally good to know and extremely freeing, that this energy can be turned to one’s own benefit. The benefit of healing and of creatively allowing it to tunnel though oneself, emerging into understanding, kindness and compassion for oneself as well as for others…instead of destruction and hate. With the help of God, this wholeness can and will be a reality by continually, day in and day out, having the desire to be honest with Him and with oneself.

Growth requires self-examination. Growth requires self-honesty. Growth requires the willingness to be humble and to take responsibility for our own life, our own happiness, and our own peace of mind. Most importantly, growth requires repentance, which simply is a change of mind, a change of attitude. In short, it is a position of humility that is consciously and willingly taken up for a higher purpose and a higher goal.

This is extremely powerful and transformative! For many, it will be the start of a much happier and more creative life.

Never fear to look into the eyes of your own anger. Beneath this anger you will find some measure of brokenness and fear. This brokenness and fear can be healed with love. This love has been freely provided for.  Not for some…but for all.  Embrace it through self-love that you may be healed and be made whole.

Today, on your birthday, I think of you.
The first smile and kind words that were ever spoken.
I think of the moment when somehow I knew
love and pain were greeting me at the very same moment.
I ponder what mystery awoke my heart -
and I ponder what mystery knew its breaking.

Today, I reflect on the wound that was left
and the time it would take to heal its bleeding.
I wonder about the tears that still fall
with an aching desire to understand their meaning.
My heart feels heavy and full with expressions
that came up from a well too deep to explain.
I am left to pray to God through my tears -
each drop, a prayer of words unspoken.

A time will come, sometime, somewhere,
when pain and tears will become a quiet knowing.
A peaceful understanding will take its place
and my heart will smile as we embrace each other fully.
Peace to you and peace to me
in God’s wisdom lie all mysteries’ unfolding.
His ways are higher and always will be
though tears continue to fall -
yet, somehow, there is a knowing.

~Viola M. Jaynes
Feb. 2008