February 17
Suzy Q’s Mother
Through process of elimination I have had to learn who G-d
is and who G-d isn’t. When it comes down
to my understanding everything incomprehensible is off the table and what is
left is mine, all mine. I can’t fathom
an all powerful G-d; therefore my G-d is not all powerful. I can not begin to comprehend a vengeful G-d,
as you might have guessed; my G-d is not vengeful. Because of these constraints I have a
non-omnipotent G-d, one with limitations and bounds. This doesn’t mean I love my G-d any less in
fact it may be why I love my G-d so very much.
And G-d loves me with a Mother love that trails me to the depths and
heights of the path, but like any mother, she can’t do everything. My G-d is accomplished and wonderful, but
there are days that I need things, which lay outside my Higher Power’s area of
expertise and I must turn to help beyond our little circle of two. This is not easy at first. We both feel awkward in the attempt, but Suzy
Q lives two houses down and her mother still has her hook shot from college and
since my mom’s experience of basketball is that it’s the court you walk through
to go play tennis, I ask Mrs. Q with help making the three point shots. I don’t have to understand Suzy Q’s mother, I
leave that to Suzy. I just have to ask
for help, learn the jump and go home when I’m done. It’s nice to be able to slam dunk, but there
is no place like home.
Recommend earnestness
*
THIN ICE
The ice is brittle, transparent and breaking away.
I brace for destruction, turmoil and frigid descent.
I am stuck in my topside thinking
And cannot realize the chance for freedom the cracking expanse promises.
I am an oceanic creature.
I can escape my watery bonds with the splitting of the ice.
Trapped in a hole I keep open only through the friction of my unrest
I am kept from the community of life to which I belong.
My reflection mixes with my view of the sky
And I forget my place, forget my name,
Forget how I have come to be trapped here.
The pining after what is not mine to have
Has brought me to this thin edge.
I must break through to be who I am.
In doing so I shatter the illusion of who I thought I was.
Zeal to zenith
I must move away from the phantasm and mockery
And take refuge in what I am
The ice is brittle, transparent and breaking away.
I brace for destruction, turmoil and frigid descent.
I am stuck in my topside thinking
And cannot realize the chance for freedom the cracking expanse promises.
I am an oceanic creature.
I can escape my watery bonds with the splitting of the ice.
Trapped in a hole I keep open only through the friction of my unrest
I am kept from the community of life to which I belong.
My reflection mixes with my view of the sky
And I forget my place, forget my name,
Forget how I have come to be trapped here.
The pining after what is not mine to have
Has brought me to this thin edge.
I must break through to be who I am.
In doing so I shatter the illusion of who I thought I was.
Zeal to zenith
I must move away from the phantasm and mockery
And take refuge in what I am
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to
Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
