Restoration

On this holy day of remembrance - remembering all that has been devoured this past year and seemingly destroyed; and in contrast, all that has been restored, made whole, or is in the process of healing - I was drawn to this verse from Joel, “God will restore the years the locusts have eaten.” When meditating on all the implications of the year past, I share some of my thoughts.

Locust trivia:  singularly, locusts are their divine insect selves, always leaping forward, enjoying the bounty of leaves and vegetation. En masse, when locusts perceive lack or fear starvation, they panic – turning nearly black to absorb light and conserve energy, they become weapons of mass destruction as they level fields, trees, and all vegetation in their paths – until either their greed is satisfied, and/or numbers of them die off. While in this fearful state, locusts have often been referred to as, “destruction, devastation, punishment” . . . or, in medieval times, they “symbolized the torment and ruin of the soul.”

From the book, Insect Mythology, locust is listed as a symbol of cosmic disorder, that the order of the cosmos had been disturbed.  There is much more that I will leave to your discovery.

To me it feels like the locusts of destruction this past year, the year since January 04, 2014, the year of Caren’s auto accident:  has robbed a husband of his best friend and lover, giving him in exchange a somewhat stranger confined, mostly, to a hospital bed – incapable of once enjoyed intimacies special to husbands and wives.  The children have lost a mother who laughs, and runs, and bakes cookies, and works, and intercedes for them at school – for a mother who is sequestered in hospital rooms, rehab facilities, and embroiled in numerous therapy appointments, who is always tired and sometimes unavailable. As her mother, it feels I have lost a daughter who was a confidante, one with whom we could have numerous, often humorous conversations all at the same time while kids ran around being kids with their interferences – for a more fragile daughter who eschews raucous kid noises, and can sometimes only hear one thing at a time, if she remembers.  My son has lost a beloved, patient aunty.  My grown son has lost a sister – so much the year of the locusts have devoured.  No, there are not literal locusts of destruction here, although the head-on collision felt like so much devastation.  The lesson here is far greater.

I must concur with Dr. Pusey in stating that the more serious locusts plaguing us last year were the locusts of the heart.  Those thoughts of poverty, lack, desertion, devastation, and loneliness were far greater within than without.  As metaphysical students, folks will realize I mean no malice in my solitary observations, nor are these personal thoughts meant as judgments.  I suffered my own illnesses, broken bones, and heartaches as I cared for sick children.  These are my intimate thoughts.

If one considers the aftermath of a locust scourge, what is left but the greening of new leaves, the restoration of new life, and a brand new chance to rebuild what had been eaten away?

Therefore, during this one-year anniversary I am reminded that a husband has instead found a new wife returned to him, one with whom they can discover new vistas together – where he has had to become the caregiver, and she has had to learn how to be receptive to receiving loving assistance. (Side note: in the ER, Rick’s voice was the only voice to which Caren responded during her delirium of pain and trauma). The children have rediscovered that their mother loves them still, they have learned more patience and a compassionate, protective caring – knowing that Mom is injured, she always returns home, and there is hope of recovery as they watch her progress, and struggle, and determine to be well.  I believe there is more respect than fear, now.

 As a mother I have watched my daughter who truly is NOT fragile – learn to walk again, learn to eat, learn to compensate, learn to live, learn to accept a new normal, overcome surgeries, learn to live again, displaying her strength of character and purpose – how proud I am of her accomplishments, how she inspires me! My son has become gentler with his aunty, is learning to process difficult emotions, and is learning to be a kinder person.  Caren’s brother, my grown son, has been home twice last year to be a support and comfort to his sister.  Through great personal sacrifice he has traveled from Oregon twice, not knowing whether or not Caren would survive, since her chances were so slim.  I believe, through great hardship in coming some three thousand miles, he has rediscovered the beauty and reconciliation with family, experienced safety and security while home, and has come to appreciate anew the miracles and machinations of Christmas, being an uncle, reacquainting with Nich, and the miracles of love.

I believe we have been given, “new eyes to see the best in each other, a heart that forgives the worst, a mind that forgets the bad or ineffective, a spirit that is mindful moment by moment, and a soul that never loses faith in God.”  I believe we all embrace Caren’s vision of HOPE, and we can resoundingly proclaim with Joel that God has indeed restored the years, for yes – it feels likes years - that the locusts have eaten.

I affirm with Joel, “God can restore what is broken, and restore it into something amazing and miraculous!”

Happy Anniversary!