Hallelujah

Okay I am just starting to menstruate and due to 'the change' my hormones are stronger than usual but still this made me bawl my eyes out this morning. Considering I was raised with more records of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir than anything else played in my home (aren't you guys lucky you had me and the brothers to ameliorate that a little!)I do love Handel's Messiah and especially the Hallelujah Chorus. There is something about the way it is presented here with the choir members dressed like mall shoppers and workers that gets to me - the symbolism it evokes - kind of like the lyrics to Drummer Boy. Anyways, here it is. Enjoy.

For my sisters - Faith

Okay, it has been waaaayyy too long since I posted and I have a lot of things I wanted to share with all of you. The only advantage to such a long hiatus is that likely my sisters are the only ones devoted enough to still be checking my blog. I wrote this poem yesterday. It has been a hard 10 days since the temperature dropped way below norms and the snow piled up. They say it hasn't been this cold here since 1985 and I know they haven't had this much snow in November since 1994 when Andrew turned 1 - our first year here. We were totally unprepared. It has been stressful and I have had to face my ugliest, most dramatic fears and try to let go and have faith. I would hesitate to share this poem with anyone - although obviously, I am posting it in a public space and anyone could read it.

It is true that I left the Mormon church 17 years ago and it is a decision I don't regret. And perhaps I left it in an unusual way because I am not bitter about the church. I am not into all the myriad of anti-Mormon literature. I don't need to prove Joseph Smith a fraud. In fact, I hope he's not. It just ceased to matter to me. I am grateful for my LDS upbringing. Jesus, as the Mormons conceptualize Him, continues to be very meaningful to me and the greatest comfort in my life. But it has become a very private thing. His picture hangs in my bedroom, festooned with ribbons that mean something to me. It is the LDS picture of a strong, broad shouldered Jesus with a confident, knowing, loving face. In my heart I consider myself a Christian although I would never openly declare it (although I guess I just have) because of the many connotations and judgmental-ism that have unfortunately been attached to that term. I am a Christian in the sense that I am a follower of Christ and I strive to live up to the ideals He preached. However, I don't believe that He is the only way. I believe there are other ways. But He is my way.

Anyways, this week has been a week of prayer, of contemplation, of being with myself, of fighting the demons of doubt, fear and judgment. And yesterday while I was writing in my journal, this poem emerged and I wanted to share it with my sisters because I thought they might understand and appreciate it.

Sunday, November 28

Come unto Jesus ye heavy laden

Tired and careworn, by sin oppressed

I come

I creep

I lay my burden at His feet

Down my armadillo armour

Heavy as lead

My plated armour guarding against slings and arrows, responsibility, blame,

My own shame

Leak through; pour through

And fester in my heart

Their cruel words a chant in my ears

A reverberating wound

Denying abundance, grace, faith

And love

Armour left at His feet, I uncurl from my foetal position

I open slowly, unfamiliar

Pale, soft, vulnerable

I open at His feet

I tremble, exposed

And clutch for my armour

In a frantic panic

Stop

My breath a sigh

Ahhhhh, Mmmmmm

Bless this armour

Love this armour

I uncurl at His feet

His wounds exposed

My heavy armour light upon His shoulders

For my yoke is easy and my burden is light Matt 11:31