Ann: President Lincoln, I understand you have something for those who have suffered betrayal by those nearest and dearest.
President Lincoln: Indeed I do. I am coming here to offer my strength, such as it is, to bolster their spirits in their time of need. Well do I remember what it was to come home wracked with doubt and feeling every pain of every soul that crossed my path and the many who were not yet to do so, and then find the woman that I married, that beautiful little peach, waiting for me with fangs bared and talons out.
I told myself she was not herself, and I believed and understood this. Yet nothing totally obscured the hope, the fervent prayer that somehow, someway, she would be different this time.
It never happened because she was different, different from the woman I married, different from the hopes and dreams and gaiety that surrounded her before illness, sorrow, childbirth, and loss claimed not only her body but her brain, and then finally her hands and heart.
If I am asked to explain what happened, even at this distance I am at a loss. I know she was asked to complete a task in her life and she turned away. I understand what it is to say, “Too much, you ask too much, leave me alone.” This I know as well as the shape of my hands and the beat of my heart in that long ago body.
But what I never understood was why she turned her sorrow on me, clearly wanting to destroy me so that I would feel the pain she suffered. How can this be? How can the suffering want to spread their pain to the ones who love them and see to their every need?
But so it is for some. They turn their anger at the universe on the nearest target who in their mind should be able to tend them such that their suffered is alieved. And when that does not happen, there is no fate too dire for the hapless soul that shares their life.
I understand, I understand what you are going through. The only solace that I can offer is that such torment clears out everything else until, if we don’t succumb to hate ourselves, that empty hole in our heart is filled with the light of compassion and compassion only. No expectations, no revenge, just compassion.
And that is what allows up to go on with our lives, nay even requires us to do so. For God Himself suffers these excruciating attacks every hour of every day and has found it in Himself to love the sinner, the transgressor who vents his frustration and rage against the Creator who wants only to share his pain and soothe his pain-filled heart.
Look upon your Creator and make common cause. That is your task now. That and not turning from the journey you are asked to undertake, hollowed out, cleansed by the fire until nothing but pure intention remains. I learned, finally, that I was asked simply to go on, to fulfill my destiny as best I could determine it to be in God’s holy name.
The odd thing is, that when you find this place, this holy center where only compassion has survived, you will find that joy still exists because joy, the only true joy, is found in carrying out our part in our Make’s design, and that is what you are doing now.
Stand tall, accept the body blows, take them into your outer covering but not into your heart for that remains sacrosanct and is yours and your Maker’s alone. Herein lies your strength, your courage, and your ability to love.
Ask Jesus, he understands this very well, better than almost any who have walked the earth. It is a hard and excruciating road, but it is your path to God in this life. Turn to me and the others when you need a helping hand. We have been there, we understand, and we will not abandon you.
December 3, 2020
All blog entries are works of the imagination and are for spiritual and entertainment purposes only.