Open Eyes, Open Heart

Apr 15, 2009

Where do you start or even begin telling a pure, untainted truth? Do you start at the point after the essential life lessons have been learned or do you start from the very beginning of this journey called life? Can it really, in essence, be accomplished? How does someone write anything that gives justice to the many experiences someone twice my age may never encounter? Not knowing exactly how to say the words I am about to say, or form them so no one is offended. I pray, even more importantly, that whoever may read this will take my words in the context that they were meant to be spoken and understood, and after receiving and accepting this knowledge as truth, then, and only then, make the educated and conscious decision to be offended, if they so choose.        Who could have ever imagined that a small talk, in the back of a small church, between two people who thought they were also insignificant, would light the spark to my dry life in such a spectacular and extraordinary way? When I was first presented with the inspiration to write about my truth, I almost thought it to be pure insanity and sometimes still chalk it up to just another person I had trusted, unconsciously mocking my hopes that I am something other than the negative image I am daily and painstakingly still pressing to replace. Never before in my life have I thought myself as someone qualified to do small things, let alone someone who is knowledgeable enough to write something that will inspire people to believe in God’s unique ability to give beauty for lashes, strength for weak, and gladness for mourning.        As I nodded my head and smiled during the talk with my mentor/play-brother, all I remember thinking was, “Man, not again; I can’t believe I trusted another person. Lord, when will I learn?" It really is divine how God works things out. In the days following that Saturday, I could think of almost nothing but the possibility of touching the hearts of, not only my peers, but people of all ages.        Hour after hour, I come to my computer, stare at the blank screen and type a few sentences, each time walking away more discouraged than the time before. I am not discouraged because I have writer’s block or too few recollections of my past to write. Nor the thought of closed minded people reading and in turn knowing all the dirty laundry I have so neatly tucked away in each space between my every word has not been enough to stop me. And even the ringing question of what will my former pastor and the congregation who has seen me grow since my birth think of me when they know that at every worship service, bible study, prayer meeting, revival, Easter program, Christmas play, gospel extravaganza, and all those other events black churches hold, I have been guarding nasty truths about my childhood. I was the master of disguise in the one place disguises should never have been needed.        But the very thought of my family reading this, sends hurricane waves of panic and anxiety through my body for minutes, afterwards leaving me numb with fear. I anticipate and cringe inside at the deep ridges of anger that will forever remain on my father’s forehead and the tear drops that will rain from the clouds of sadness my mother’s eyes will instantly be transformed to. Secrets can be so bittersweet, holding the power to strengthen the weakest friendship or destroy the strongest family. As I tell my secrets, will I be even more of a black sheep in my family? Or will revealing my secrets be the salvage to heal my deep wounds?   These questions, I do not hold the answer or claim to even possess a map to the pathway that leads to these remedies. But I do know that this life of pretending is like daily having to pick up a knife and choose a part of myself to do away with. Should I get rid of my arm or maybe a leg today? Everyday sacrificing pieces of myself that I don't have to loose, if I would just give my heart and let it be healed...   So here is my first step to being a whole Tabitha... In five days, I will be having gastric bypass surgery and there is nothing that anyone but God Himself can say to persuade me other wise. I am taking control of my life and no longer will I battle with something that has haunted me years after situations and circumstances have stopped. I haven't decided at this point if I'll be doing updates on my weight loss progress biweekly, monthly, or tri-monthly, or just willy nilly (haha wow does anyone even say that anymore??? Do you guys think there's such a person with the name willy nilly? WOW but anyway...), but I strongly believe that it's important that I document this time in my life. You may be thinking to yourself at this point, "Tabitha, why the need to share with us?" Well my dear friends, I believe this is another opportunity for me to stop hiding so much of who I am and what I have gone through... that also being said, there will probably be some days that these notes will be filled with shocking truths and blunt realities of my past because I also believe that I will never be able to help others bring their hurts to God on a personal level if I am unwilling to show my own scars.

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