Category — GraceandMercy

A common experience like falling in love
Is familiar to all it comes from above
But the common experience of hatred and war
Is man’s greatest crime that’s spread from afar

Many know fear and many know pain
And many know bullets that fall down like rain
Mothers cry and children scream
While fathers and sons take their place on the scene

The enemy comes in with dogged determination
To wipe out a race, a religion, a nation
While others look on or support the infraction
With silence and guns and covert action

The common experience of hatred is spread
When men stand by and turn their heads
Or when words of peace they just don’t say
Or when they allow evil to just have its way

The common experience that we need to spread
Is peace and love and a decrease in dread
To stop the fighting and killing and such
An end to racism would help so much

Without prejudice and cultural strife
All of God’s children could have a peaceful life
A common experience is in man’s control
All we need do is let love unfold

When I awoke this morning, I had the words of my title in mind, but I was remembering an old Negro spiritual we used to sing in church. “How I got over. How I got over. My soul looks back and wonders, how I got over.” I remember my mother, grandmother and others singing it with gusto, thanking God for helping them to “make it through.” Then I typed in the words on YouTube, and found this song by The Roots, and it changed my whole attitude.

Rather than praise and worship, the words, music and images took my heart and mind into a totally different mood of distress, despair and disturbance. Tears began to flow, and my heart began to ache. For I remember, can almost smell and feel, the sensations of the people portrayed in the video; because it wasn’t too long ago that their plight was my own, and it hit too close to home.

I sit now, at my computer, with my heater going full blast in my cozy third-floor apartment overlooking a majestic oak tree, while the capitol building of the state of California is at the end of my block. There are limos, Lamborghini-es, and other luxury cars nightly pulling up to the restaurants, coffee houses and cafes that line my street.

Happy people sitting outside having lunch, dinner or just over coffee fill the air with their laughter and content. They smile and some even nod as I pass, thinking and accepting me as one of them, an equal. But I wonder what they would think about me if they knew that it wasn’t too long ago that I was homeless, living in a shelter with my two kids…friendless and alone? Would their looks be diverted away from me?

This is not the way I envisioned my day going when I woke up full of gratitude and rejoicing this morning. I had no intention of spending my morning revisiting an episode in my life that I seldom visit anymore. Not that I am trying to forget it, because I think it plays a significant part in my current sense of empathy. But today was not going to be one of those days when it would come back to me with such force, with a video as stark evidence that what happened then was real to me, just as now it’s very real to others.

But now that I think of it, both the rejoicing and the pain belong to me. I embrace them as value which has been added to my life. For without the pain there would be no joy. I would not know that it is possible to overcome and not be genuine in sharing that hopeful message with others. I would also not be able to serve as an example to those who think themselves above and beyond the possibilities of becoming like their less fortunate neighbors. It can happen to anyone.

There is a message for all of us in this, I think. For me, reminiscing keeps me grounded. For those who are struggling, I wish them God’s best. For those who are reading this, I hope it stirs something in you to reach out to even one in whatever way you can to those disenfranchised by the state of their birth or whatever life has thrown their way. A simple smile of encouragement will go a long way, and with just a little help one day those who are suffering won’t have to wonder how they got over, they will know.

My neighbor and I met in the hallway of our apartment building and exchanged hellos. He has been having some serious health issues and so have I. During our brief interlude, we laughed at how we have simply just gotten old. We have to admit it, and were amused with how we now realize why old people always seem so short tempered and in such a hurry. They, or we now, don’t have the time to dilly-dally and procrastination is a waste of time.

We also touched on how limited we are in having someone to depend on and concluded that sadly, God is the only one. Everyone else is trying to keep it together just as we are.

I admit it was very disheartening to wake up one day and discover I was old. Oh, I’m not crying in my tomato soup, I still have an active life. But, as my health issues increase and my energy decreases, I have to face the fact that I am no longer in my 20s, 30s, 40s, or 50s, and quickly slipping away from my 60s. (I will be 68 in January.) What to do; what to do!!

I find it interesting that although I know how old I am when I look in the mirror, and by the way my body feels when I struggle with things I’ve been used to doing very easily, my mind only feels full to overflowing; not old. I just know that I know a lot about a lot. There aren’t too many subjects, except those extreme intellectual ones like quantum physics and such that I either have experienced, know someone who has, or heard or read about. This mass of knowledge gives me great pleasure, especially when I get to share it.

I guess the bottom line is that getting older ain’t that bad. In fact, I accept it as my reward for all the tears, confusion, and do-over’s I’ve had to endure. I love my gray hair and wish it were gold, because I’ve entered the “golden time of day” and find it’s not too bad. I dedicate the attached video to all those golden oldies like me and all those who look forward to becoming one.

Frankie Beverly and Maze \"The Golden Time of Day\"

The best way to stop feeling sorry for oneself is to consider the plight of another. When the brightness of your self-pity is deflected from the mirror of your mind and you illuminate the path of someone else, you can stop squinting and open your eyes widely. Your light is no longer blinding.

But one of the most difficult things for a person to do is to turn attention away from themselves and devote it wholeheartedly to another when they themselves are confused or in pain. Being selfless is usually an act that requires a conscious decision, particularly if the other person is our equal or close to it.

We may sympathize with or be empathetic about someone’s pain. We may internalize or choose to ignore their suffering, but our reaction is based on how it will or does affect us. Regarding another becomes a personal matter of considering our own wellbeing first before promoting the caring focus toward the other person. We may eventually decide to put their need(s) before our own, but only after some thought as to what it will cost us.

It is not that we should dwell on our shortcomings as human beings, because we more often than not recognize our need to survive first and foremost, and usually make our determinations out of concern for our limitations. Therefore, in our interactions, it is normal to be well aware that we are not created to “be all things to all people.”

When you read the paper or watch the news and there’s a tragic story, what is your reaction? Do you first consider the persons involved, or do you think, “I’m glad that’s not me?” And if you are grateful that it’s not you, do you then move on as if what you’ve just read or seen was the problem of someone else and just a story that does not concern you? Have we become so jaded to mayhem and tragedy that images of men, women and children being blown to bits, starved, tortured, or mistreated in anyway have no affect or garner any reaction? Has the viewing of horror movies, video games and special effects removed or blanketed our sensitivity to human suffering?

People seem to have become so used to tragedy until and unless it touches us personally or is a national disaster do we even flinch. Local stories of murders, robberies, abductions, gang wars, domestic violence, family breakups, school and office shootings, child abuse, rapes, drownings, bombings, and all the many other painful experiences our neighbors, friends and even loved ones are having are shrugged off as, “That’s their problem. I’m glad that’s not me.”

But when does it become our problem? How close does it have to get to be seen as something which affects us no matter how distant the situation is from our personal experience? Should we consider ourselves lucky or blessed because this time we are not the ones bearing the burden or suffering the pain? How are we supposed to act or respond?

That is a tough question to consider, especially with the almost instantaneous news flashes from around the world. We live in a global community now, so our neighbor can be anyone from anywhere, and how can we feel for everyone who is going through some tremendous experience? We can’t. If you feel guilty for sometimes thinking, “I’m glad that’s not me,” don’t worry. That’s a normal reaction, and the problem is probably one which is beyond your control. The first law of nature, it is said, is survival, and survival is more than making sure the essentials of food, clothing and shelter are available. There is also survival of the mind, heart and spirit.

We are not responsible for all the things which happen to our neighbors, unless we are aware of the situation and ignore our duty to assist or we are complacent in our reaction to their plight. But standing by and watching when a word, a helping hand or some other gesture of humanity one to the other can be offered is to me a dereliction of our responsibility, and could make all the difference in the world. In any case, if it is not your turn to suffer heartbreak and heartache, the next time it could be and someone could be saying of you, “I’m glad that’s not me.” So consider how you would feel, because “what goes around comes around,” and “there but for the grace of God, go I (you).”

Facing life’s challenges

This has been a period of great challenge for me and my family. We have been assailed by the loss of my 15^th grandchild, a boy named Austin Josiah (A.J.), born on March 24 and died on March 25. He was full term, weighed 8 lbs 13 ounces, and looked absolutely beautiful. Unfortunately, he had a hernia which allowed his stomach and intestines to fill the upper left section of his body where that lung couldn’t grow; and the other lung and heart were restrained and not allowed to grow adequately enough to sustain his life. His heart gave out which caused severe brain damage, and he succumbed to his illness. He was my youngest son’s first child.

In my own situation, I have been diagnosed with a rare, estrogen-related breast cancer, and will begin treatment and surgery very soon.

In both these circumstances, as in all the circumstances I have faced in my 67 years, I have come to accept that we do not control anything. All we can do is “let go and let God.” Sometimes that is easy to do, sometime not. We all must face health, relationship, business and general life issues, and must decide with each one how we will react to them. If we are able to trust that time, faith and our ability to maintain our focus will carry us through, we can move forward with confidence and peace of mind. 

We maybe crying and hurting deep inside, but we have already been given the strength we need to survive. The grace of God and His mercy guarantees it.