The Wounds of Love

I use very few guest posts on SingleMomSmiling mostly because submissions do not fit my message of hope and healing through the Lord. Pretty much anyone can write a piece on divorce nowadays. It takes someone special to see God working through it. This post is written by one of those special people. Poet of the Light, thank you for allowing me to use your piece. Thank you for continuing to bless and inspire me with your Wisdom and Grace. 

The Wounds of Love

During our storms of turmoil, our descents into hellishness, we cry but fail to see that everything in a watery drop is distorted and or inverted, subject to our perception; up is down and white is black. Humor me this, picture a mountain behind a pond of water and for some that same mountain is laid before their feet…or not.

We’ve passively learned to trust our eyes, like our hearts trust those we love all the while missing that “love” like God, just “is” and makes no distinction to quantify what it is attached to or by whom.

Our love is never wrong, I’ll repeat that; our love for others is never wrong and I would even dare say it is always right. The only time when “love” seems (perceptively) to be wrong is when we cry because somehow “love” is taken away from us; when in reality it is a distortion of sight that is painfully being stripped away. This can occur by our choice when we deny God or by the choice of one we attached love from our hearts to (one who has decided to deny God and us).

That which has been attached under the guise of love through eyesight is really and simply…lust. Now none of our turmoil will seem fair by any stretch of the imagination. I’m willing to bet that a carefree lone sheep that ponderously wandered off from the herd felt much the same way as we do when it suddenly perceived the herd had abandoned it for no reason at all. And I would further dare say the very sheep’s heart was more than relieved in a micro-second once it was able to see that same crowd of lost members once again…clearly in front of it as expected for normalcy.

I may be an aberrational thinker in comparison to what is seen as “normal,” but for me, I believe part of God’s plan is to get us (those who suffer from the loss of love/loved ones however that loss came about) alone.

We have heard God works in a mysterious way and by the Holy Spirit that work comes about. Psychologist claim there are five stages to grief, and I have been taught by what I refer to as Holy Angels to reexamine that claim in a “new light of renewed eyesight.” As a Catholic I’ve seen how a symbolic correlation between those proffered five stages of grief is synonymous with the five piercing wounds of Christ.

Such a comparison may bring gasps of disbelief by some incredulous that I would dare think to associate the two. That is well within their prerogative; however, as part of a healing process for me, it is as such:

5 Wounds of Christ & 5 Stages of Grief in Divorce

First: the crown of thorns

First we are convinced. We are convicted in our minds that we have done something terribly wrong, that we have done something worthy of conviction when our love becomes…rejected. The descent into hell has begun and like a convicted prisoner still tethered by our earnest love, we obediently follow. And honestly I dare say we should.

Secondly: the scourging at the pillar in public

Our unrelenting public humiliation takes place. Words, looks, and gossip become that ripping at our soul like we were the chosen carrion, merely for the world’s amusement, because we dared to…love from our heart.

Thirdly: our feet become nailed to a stationary place

We are stuck sometimes in our own home where we withdraw to as we unconsciously allow ourselves to be set aside from loved ones, friends, neighbors, those we were once crowd members with. Many of us will even fall away from our parishes in a sporadically sense. We may attend but lack that same fervor of belief, being new convicts among the masses. We might even skip that undeserved Holy sacrament of body and blood.

Fourthly: we are bound and nailed through our own hands

Now, we really feel vulnerable and unable to change anything. We can’t wipe our own tears or even so much as love another with the touch of our fingertips. We cannot grasp onto them. Here, in our darkest hour, they share with us just out of reach. We are at the threshold of mercy before the Lord and world and simultaneously stepping into the deepest pit of hell.

Fifth, but not last: all we have left at this point… is our heart begging for mercy.

We humbly utter prayers for understanding and forgiveness, which ultimately and simultaneously remind us to forgive all those who have also rejected us and our love. It is here, in that moment we are finally pierced in the heart to…let go of it all. We knowingly or not, release our hold of control and let God do what God does best…usher in justice, gracefully.

We may still question habitually but we are released from the mountainous guilt and depths of perceived hell all in the same micro-second. And every teardrop that spilled from our eyes, fell upon Holy ground from a Holy vessel in every step made along the way. We…were never alone no matter how we saw it, no matter how it felt, no matter what the world tells us to the contrary…we were always held.

We, children of God, are merely micro-reflections of all God is which is why God as Christ has paid the true cost and we share only in a micro-expression of that same pain humanistically, yet we will reap in fullness from the fruit of Gods vine.

Like that vast mountain cascading its image over a watery surface before us; in our share of pain, we’ve primarily visualize by means of being a witness to the true suffering Christ already paid while erected upon Mt. Calvary, out of love for us. He even asked we be forgiven. We only feel or felt our suffering the same manner as Christ suffered because it stems from the same source as our love…from the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

God has moved our mountain of earthly pain by having Christ accept it as his own. We are bestowed by the Holy Spirit merely the image through our tears by love, that also serve with the source of living waters that now project the mountain’s image upwards to the reflections of heaven, out of Love of our humbled hearts to God.

The next time you feel rejected; pick up your Rosary to be held by Christ in every whispered word your heart can utter forth and every deep hidden emotion you can’t.

Be blessed and at peace…

Poet of the Light© 2016

God Bless…

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