Blessings in the Storm

Her question was simple enough. Yet, I had to pause to allow the tears [of a deep sense] of joy to fall.

This genteel Catholic nun who has taken on the task of guiding my spiritual life surprised me with her recall of the name of the Kirk Franklin compact disc “Songs for the Storm Volume I.”

“Claudette,” she softly asked, “did you experience God through the storm?”

I wanted to be poetic and say “let me count the ways.” Instead, I cried as I struggled for the words to explain the “peace that passeth all understanding,” that is welling up from the pit of my soul. Finally, I was able to share the stories, as an example, of my first internet dating experience and the ones subsequent with her.

My little nun laughed heartily as she sweetly affirmed the fact that she noticed that I no longer question or allow anyone to question my intuition or gut feelings. “Walk gently my child as you continue to explore the fullness of Sofia who is you,” she said as we hugged goodbye.

Her question stayed with me as I drove away and I decided to create a mental 'God Experience Journal'. Each time I consciously recognized the presence of the Divine, I would note it and thank Him.

It was Friday afternoon (March 23) and as I left the ‘monastery’, I made my way across town to lie on a bed and allow another woman to gently guide me – this time to meet my body – the temple of the Divine.

This was one doctor’s order (psychologist’s) that I am so glad I followed. Like so many women who survived childhood sexual abuse, rape and domestic violence, my connection with my body has been very tenuous to say the least and through these sessions, I am learning to no longer be ashamed of and therefore disassociate from my body.

It was my third session with K and as her hands finally ran over my left hand, I said to her “K, for the first time, I was totally with you!” She understood. I made a mental note in my 'God Experience Journal'.

As is now my routine, after my massage session I picked up my senior citizen for supper. Earlier that day I had called her to find out what she wanted to do – whether she wanted to go out or should I bring something over as she was not feeling too well. “What do you feel for my love?” I asked.

“I feel Italian,” she replied and so we headed for the nearest Olive Gardens (her favourite place) and while we waited for a table we "visited" – that’s the Canadian equivalent of the Jamaican saying "we draw long bench.”

My next notation in my God Experience Journal came when our waitress asked, “What are you celebrating tonight ladies?” and we both chirped without consultation, “Friendship!”

It was well after 9:00 p.m. when I dropped her home and she reminded me of my promise to be in our Church next Sunday. It was time to return and I knew it but this Sunday (March 25) I was already committed to be somewhere else.

The next note in my 'God Experience Journal', came after I got home that Friday night and responded to a voice mail message. It was a police officer calling to give me information pertaining to my safety. He asked me a question, however, that also left me wondering when the games would be over.

Admittedly panicked, I made several phone calls to activate both my spiritual and physical security systems as I thanked God for the fact that She had put these ‘resources’ in place for me.

Saturday came just on time and as my T’ai Chi Master hugged me in appreciation for my attendance to her class – I knew that this was another God experience as I was the one benefiting from her lessons yet she was thanking me.

“Where are you from?” this not-at-all petite but nevertheless confident woman asked my daughter and I as she entered the hot tub at the fitness centre we go to each Saturday. Her friend, who was already in the tub, reprimanded her for asking that question but I instinctively knew that it was another God experience moment and I smiling said to her, “We are originally from Jamaica.”

“You two are so beautiful, tall and gorgeous!” she literally exclaimed and for the hour long aqua-cise session she would not leave my side. While my daughter huffed and puffed behind us, my new acquaintance, this blonde hair, blue eye lady with her orange tan, and I jumped, jogged and laughed as we tried to keep up with the lithe instructor.

The words, “You get some rest, you are okay now, I'll take care of you,” brought me the peace I needed to fall asleep on Saturday night. Sleep had evaded me after the call from the officer on Friday and hearing those words from an unlikely source was another note for my Journal.

She was making history – the first woman to lead the Eucharistic Service in this ancient Anglo-Catholic church. This woman was also an important part of my own Canadian history that is being written.

So on International Woman’s Day, when she mentioned to the audience at my work place that this moment was to happen, I made a mental note that I would be there. Though I felt safe and secure in my friend’s bed, I knew I had to leave and go to the little church in the inner city of Edmonton.

I made another note in my 'God Experience Journal' of two facts - this Reverend was another ‘little’ yet powerful woman who had entered my life and one of the Scriptures that was read was the same one my Spiritual Director had offered as my grounding passage only a couple days before:

“Do not remember the former things,
Or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches;
For I give water in the wilderness, river in the desert,
To give drink to my chosen people,
The people who I formed for myself
So that they might declare and praise me.”
(Isaiah 43: 18 – 21)

How am I experiencing God now that the storm is over? How am I experiencing God as some turbulence is still on the seas?

I continue to count the ways.

The words of Kirk Franklin’s song, “Blessing in the Storm” is not enough to describe it, yet I offer them to you or any one who might be finding it hard to experience God in your (or their) own storm.

When I cannot hear the sparrow sing
And I cannot feel a melody
There's a secret place
That's full of grace
There's a blessing in the storm

Help me sing it
There's a blessing in the storm

When the sickness won't leave my body
And the pain just won't leave my soul
I get on my knees
And say "Jesus please!"

There's a blessing in the storm
Help me sing it

There's a blessing in the storm
When I cannot see love again
And the raindrops won't ever end
If you just hold on
Those clouds will soon be gone

There's a blessing in the storm
Help me sing it
There's a blessing in the storm

Blessings,

Claudette

Celebrate Who You Are!

I was partially naked and so too was she.

Neither of our semi-nudity was of any concern as all the other women of various sizes, shapes and skin colours were totally naked.

This was our second time at the pool – my daughter and mine – and I had just told her all happenings of my week.

“Mummy, I know this might sound bad but it is the truth,” she said.

“What?”

“I must say that since Aunty J left your life, you are such a different person!” she remarked. “You are doing all these things for yourself, you have lost weight although not in a healthy way but you look fabulous!”

“Thanks babes,” I responded with tears welling up my eyes.

“No seriously,” she continued. “You’re doing T’ai Chi, therapeutic massages, we come swimming and do the sauna each week, you are going out with your woman-friends, you lover you job and you are laughing so much!”

My baby girl was right – she usually is. My personal physician only the day before (Friday, March 9) had confirmed what she was saying (although, understandably so with all that is pending, she still would not take me off the anti-depressants and tranquilizers).

“Claudette," my physician said, “we got the results back from your blood work up and your diabetes is well, well under control for the last three months.” The results from the lab was showing that not only has the diabetes been under control for the last three months but all of my other results surpassed anything my doctors, including my diabetes and other specialists, had imagined would happen without my going on insulin and other radical treatments.

This is as a result, first of the depression and not having any appetite for a few months since October 2006 and then in January 2007, I made a conscious decision to stop eating certain foods. For years I have been trying to cut out sweets, eat more fruits and eat smaller portions without any success or real support. Now, through the "gift of goodbye," but more so the Grace and Will of God -- I have done it!

Thursday, March 8 was International Women’s Day and as I sat in the gymnasium at work, where a special function was being held in honour of women, I contemplated what the theme meant to me - “Celebrate Who You Are!”

Almost six months ago now, I could never have imagined myself being alive much less celebrating who I am. The guest speaker, former Deputy Prime Minister Anne McLellan, in her presentation asked the question how many of us women in the room had any interest in entering politics. About five of us raised our hands and mine was among them.

As my baby girl commented on my well-being, I remembered raising my hand in that hall filled with women with stories of travail, trials and triumph – each in her own way. I too have my own story; it is one that I first started to share on this blog and with anyone who would listen.

Listening to my daughter, as she continued to compare, in her recollection, how I was for the last sixteen years with now and particularly in the last few years since we migrated to Canada, I received another affirmation of my life’s purpose.

Yes, I am one fabulous 161 lbs, black woman!

Yes, I am both a woman of strength and a strong woman.

Yes, there are still challenges (financial, academic and legal) ahead of me in the next few months but guess what?

I feel victorious!

My beloved minister, the one who I have not seen in months because I have not been at church – depending instead on a very private and solitary journey of prayer, rituals and thanksgiving, which has been ably supported by my Spiritual Director – has this saying:

“People know when they are tolerated, welcomed or celebrated!”

Looking back, for sixteen years my daughter and I were tolerated – and that is okay. I bless and thank the people who have finally come into their truth and can honestly hang up their telephones on us both even when we call out of good will. Their gestures have taught me how not to be in this world and for that I am truly grateful!

It is now time to celebrate who I am (and who my 6’ tall, beautiful, wise and strong black daughter is).

Serendipity has brought Lance back into my life when I needed that kind of support most. A couple days ago he challenged me to get out more – “Girl from your photographs you have not aged one bit since I last saw you twelve years ago. In fact, you look more fabulous now than every before! Hit the clubs, socialize, get out there and show off that gorgeous self of yours!” he commanded me.

Reminding him that that is not my style nor scene, I however promised to “get out more.” My not doing so had nothing to do with the lack of “fish” biting but more because I have no intention of walking blindly into another relationship – without sorting through my 'baggage' and making sure that “the other” has done the same.

Who wants to repeat – for sixteen days, months or years – what I have just, thankfully, come through?

In her book, “What You Think of Me is None of my Business," Terry Cole-Whittaker writes, "To the degree that we can take a really good look at ourselves and see ourselves objectively and lovingly, we are able to participate more fully in this life.”

I have been looking in the mirror, for several years now, but now I have one behind, beside, underneath as well as in front of me – unmasking every secret that would cause me to ever again tolerate being tolerated!

My friend Anni says I am glowing and she has re-named me Blossom! I love it!

My Scripture for this week puts it in greater perspective. It is from Ezekiel 34: 25 – 31. The verse that explains that glow is verse 31:

“You [Claudette and you dear reader] are my sheep, the sheep of my pasture and I
am your God.”

With that in my heart – why would I (or you) not be celebrating who I am?

Blessings as you “Celebrate Who You are,”

Claudette