Sighs and Hallelujahs Stories and thoughts about the adventures of life without arms

Beginnings and Endings

Beginnings and endings are where we wrestle the most.
Our struggles center around creation and death.

So many days my breath is taken away by your creation.
The mountains, trees, lakes and the sun glistening off the Sound.
It’s curious, though, this fascination.
I see so much beauty in the nature you created,
but when I look in the mirror I don’t see the same.
Instead, I see a God that was absent.

You knit me together in my mother’s womb, right?
You tell me that know the number of hairs on my head,
but you missed the arms.
Were you there?
Did you miss me passing by on the conveyor belt of life?
Or, did you actually choose to create me this way?
“It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,”
you answered, when asked why a man was born blind.
“This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.”
I’m not comfortable with a God so sadistic and selfish.
But, maybe that’s who you are.
Or, maybe you’re loving and you grieve my wounded body alongside me.
So many of my questions for the Creator remain unanswered.

Death is the other bookend that leaves me struggling with you.
You took her so young; only 54 when the cancer consumed her.
She was my best friend and I was Grandma’s Little Angel.
So many traits I’ve inherited from her – enjoyment of flowers and planting,
and foods that I could have only learned to love from her.
My Grandma Phyllis was not perfect, but her love for me was.
I miss her.

An impression is made on a young boy feeling so frightened;
helpless to aid his Grandma “Phil” while she lay convulsing from seizures.
Not able to open a door or to reach the phone.
To not be able to do anything for a friend in need sets you down a path;
a path to never be caught off guard again.
So, I’ve learned to be prepared,
to not get too attached,
to not give my heart fully.
Because if I do, you may take that away from me again.

Stuck between beginnings and endings is where I live.
A frightened boy, living in a wounded body.
Afraid to make a move, scared to take a risk.
Paralyzed by the fear that you won’t meet me there.
Yet, you’ve met me so many times.
You’ve brought me safely thus far,
So bring me safely again.

Lord, let things end so that you can create anew.