bearing witness

We're hearing a lot of talk about child abuse these days - and perhaps the most horrifying of all the accounts is the church's orientation. To associate these deplorable actions with God must be the greatest betrayal possible. From the overall accounts of abused children, there are always people in authority involved - older brothers, fathers, uncles, grandfathers, older neighbors - whoever, it seems there was always a higher authority to bow to. But to be told that the intimacy was part of God's plan surely is go-to-the-head-of-the-class evil. Of the few victims I know, the shattering of trust has permanently skewed  their relationships - on all levels. Some obviously adapted better than others, but the damage cannot be overestimated. 

And the haunting soul-echo down through the ages is "Why me? Did I do something to allow this to happen?"

With every breath we must reassure the devastated, and work for the severest of punishment for the monstrous offenders.

the grove

The word "grove" was in my morning crossword puzzle and immediately there bloomed on my inner eye our beloved patch of lawn and ancient sycamores overlooking the Chesapeake Bay at Red Point, MD. My family has vacationed  there since the 1950's - so that is many years of grove gazing!  In later years, my cousin renovated the old cottage overlooking the grove to include a comfortably furnished screened-in porch to accommodate this pastime! And truly, as age limits the endless energy we had as kids, sitting and watching the sun dazzle the Bay as boats speed or loll along the channel is truly the best kind of vacationing! And while the sun-lit moments are the Cadillacs of memories, the cicada nights with the lone boats shining their way home and the faint sparkle of lights on the far-away shore are just as vivid. Granted, the view is overlaid with golden memories of decades. The true meaning of vacations is a break from the normal and the Chesapeake Bay was definitely a vast change from the Pennsylvania farmlands.

 It was close to home by miles, but continents away in the imaginative playground of our young minds. Our rather carefully ordered lives opened up to water and sky. 

We were transformed into the boundless.

"No matter how much we may love the melody of a bygone day, or imagine the song of a future one, we must dance within the music of today - or we will always be out of step." - Lisa Wingate from Before We Were Yours

 I think it is so easy as we age to look back on the past with possibly rose-colored glasses and long for a simpler time. Or we may dream of all the things we still may do. But it is the music of today, that takes a keen ear, and even more willing feet to step to the beautiful rhythm of now.