Life Isn’t Always Beautiful or Fair

Me and My Girls

It feels like a lifetime ago instead of 8 years. My heart aches for the loss of the beautiful soul taken way too soon. It’s hard to believe that nearly two weeks ago we lost you.

The picture above was one of those rare, magical times where we all seemed to be of the same color coordinated mind and it was too perfect not to convert into a photo op. Now I’m just grateful to have this little memento.

These women and their smiling faces held many of my cherished moments in my memory bank of a prior career. They were all smart, kind, well meaning, and with good hearts filled with kindness. They cherished their families, especially their children.

Imagine my shock when two of the ladies here (and one of the men not pictured) reached out to tell me that the lady in the white blouse standing on the far right was dead. Not only dead, but violently murdered. Shot and killed by her ex in what was being called a domestic violence case.

The response from all of us who knew and worked with her was utter devastation. What about her two young daughters who she used to bring by to show off? The ones she couldn’t stop talking about? They were her whole universe! Her reason for being. What was their world going to be without her? Weren’t they teenagers now? To lose a mom at any time is hard, but in this way during this time? My heart still bleeds for them. I can’t begin to imagine their devastation.

The news reports say she’d finally permanently broken it off and had stopped by the house one last time to get the last thing she’d left behind. Her cat. Because that was a big part of who she was. A lover of animals. She shouldn’t have lost her life.

Truth is, we all remember her ex. I remember thinking he was a bit of an ass and way too possessive. Hot headed, too. But never in a million years did I expect this. I knew they fought sometimes, but I never had any inclination that he had been this violently volatile. So many memories tumble out and I wonder what we missed and if there was anything we could’ve done that might have altered this path and then I realize that those thoughts are pointless.

Live in the here and now. Ache for those left behind, and do what you can to live life. Don’t squander it. In my own way I’ll try to do right by her girls as they deserve to be taken care of and to know that their mom was loved.

And if you are reading this and you are a victim of domestic abuse, know someone going through it, or even suspect it… PLEASE, I’m begging you, reach out for help. Call the Domestic Abuse Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or check out their website HERE!

Yeah… as if COVID, quarantine, and murder hornets weren’t enough, right? Don’t worry, I’m hurting, but ok. My support system is strong and I’m working both my day job and writing my next novel. What’s been going on in your world?

Lost, Broken, or Hope? Which Are You?

My heart hurts today. I just can’t sit here and say nothing. Am I the only one who feels it lately? All this hate, rage, toxicity oozing out of social media?

Can you not feel its destructiveness to your bones? I can.

There’s already so much pain and desolation and fear in the world. Must we really rabidly spew more hate into it? For the first time in a long time I hid someone’s posts from my Facebook posts from my feed because I couldn’t stand the hate messages wrapped up as “activism” anymore. Every message was filled with vitriol, spewed hate, and fanned the flames of extremist behavior while denigrating anyone who might value something other than what she believed.

I felt sad. Sorry for her. That she was so unhappy and filled with poison and looking for someone to blame. But I couldn’t be in her universe anymore. For me. I couldn’t condone her messages of verbal violence against others. That’s not a solution. That’s not helping make this world better. That’s just more of the horrible cycle of fear and hate and violence.

Listen…

I live in Florida. My heart broke for all the lost young lives. I ache for their families. It hit very close to home. The violence is not ok. I think we all agree on that. Gun control? Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t. I don’t pretend to know. Do I think mental health issues play a big part in the violence of today? Absolutely. Do I think teachers should have to carry guns? No.

Billy Graham, who has been a religious leader to many, also died this this week. He lived to a ripe old age. Good for him.

Death isn’t death. Everyone finds their strength to move on from different sources, faith in God being a big one. So when I see the same people shouting hate comments at political leaders due to gun control laws, then spewing filth, nastiness, and wishing violence on a religious leader, I get sick to my stomach. I begin to wonder just how broken you are to fan more fuels of hate after such a painful week, and I walk away.

I feel sorry for the person, but I forgive them and I leave. Because I can’t be around that. I refuse to believe that the world is so broken and disgusting that it now only filled with rage and hate and finger pointing.

I don’t like people who extol hate and vicious rage. Who fan flames of doubt and violence. I may love you as a person, but it doesn’t mean I like you. Or that I’m blind to a person’s effect.

I guess what I’m asking is this… Have you considered the message you’re sending out into the world? Is it truly representative of the person you are? Are you helping to make the world a better place? What things have been hurting your heart lately? What things have given you hope or joy?

Life’s Too Short

I’m baaccckkkk!

Ok, so many of my friends here noticed my short hiatus turned out not to be so short. And yes. There were a few adventures along the way, but really, deep down, I got stuck again. I somehow found myself living one of my favorite melancholy Manilow songs…

Ok, replace “my woman” with just plain ol’ me (or my inspiration would probably be more accurate) because the other isn’t quite an accurate fit, but you’ll basically get the gist. Once again I allowed myself to get sucked into a career that drained me of some of my most valuable commodities.

Time.

And energy.

And once again it was for people who didn’t even know, understand, or appreciate my personal sacrifices. But that’s in the past.

I took a new job that is not nearly as demanding of my time, nor is it as draining of all my mental capacities. So, despite some personal tragedies along the way that I’m not quite ready to talk about (too fresh), I’m finally getting back to me!

Yesterday was my first time in a long time to post something I’d been inspired to share in quite some time. 1. It was great to be inspired. 2. It was awesome to have time and energy to share. See the theme?

I even got the chance to meet up with a friend for lunch, then brainstorm and information gather from a friend I’ll be using as a resource for my next book! He helped me flesh out characters that would work with the plot line I had envisioned. It felt great!

As always, there’s a song that helped inspire and engage my creativity with this relationship. Apparently it’s from a movie. I’ve never seen it, but the undercurrents spoke to me…

So I’m sorry I’ve been away so long. Hopefully I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve missed you guys. Am I forgiven? What’s new in your worlds?

Lessons in Life and Love from Once Upon a Time

I wasn’t the girl who was hooked on Once Upon a Time from the beginning. I’d recorded it with the intent to watch, but somehow, I never did. Until the end of this last season. What I found was brilliant script writing, fairy tale characters I remembered, but spun to be virtually unrecognizable in the coolest way possible….and some awesome lessons in living and loving well if you paid attention.

If you know anything about fairy tales, you know that there are certain inalienable truths.

According to Shakespeare, “The path of true love never did run smooth.” The folks in Storybrooke, Maine would agree with that. In fact, they don’t even know it, but they’ve been trapped by a curse placed upon them by the evil queen to gain her revenge on Snow White, a local school teacher. Yes, when she activated the curse, she moved her world of magic into our world, a place where magic didn’t exist. In this world, no one remembered who they were or got happy endings…well, not until the “savior” arrived and the curse was broken.

Lesson: True love takes a lot of work, faith (both in yourselves and each other), and sacrifice. Problems and challenges don’t just disappear because you’ve found your true love. In fact, there will be times when you will lose sight of what’s important. In those times, the other part of you will rise up to the challenge–to believe and fight enough for you both.

Charming said it best. “I will always find you.”

Then there are the villains, Regina, the Evil Queen, and Rumplestiltskin…and even, to an extent, Regina’s mother, Cora. They’ve made some terrible, hateful decisions in the name of anger and revenge. But they are capable of love…and when they embrace that rarely used part of their souls, amazing things happen.

Lesson: With the power of love, no one is irredeemable. Flaws are there, and seen, but true love is acceptance, warts and all. Love means letting go of hate and anger, sometimes sacrificing yourself, to put someone else’s happiness and well being above your own.

Sometimes people will lose their way, forget who they are. In Storybrooke, this has happened quite literally. Charming lost his memory, for a while the entire town had no memory of their life in The Enchanted Forest, and Belle literally lost all her memories of Rumplestiltskin and their love. Sometimes losing their way can also be metaphoric. Snow lost sight of who she was in her quest for revenge, Pinnochio forgot his path and his responsibilities, even Red (yes, that’s Little Red Riding Hood) lost sight of the true meaning of family and acceptance when she met her mother.

Lesson: Those who love you will remember who you are and hold on to you. They won’t let you stay lost for long. They’ll remind you of just how important you truly are.

In life, we’re all bound to make mistakes. They don’t have to define us. In Once Upon A Time, Emma had given Henry up for adoption, thinking she had nothing better to offer him. He found her, and she fell in love. He was adopted by Regina, the Evil Queen, who had cast a curse of vengeance against Snow and Charming, Emma’s parents.

Lesson: Everyone has an opportunity to redeem themselves if they’re brave enough to take the chance. Love means owning your mistakes and moving forward. They don’t have to define who you are.

And finally, the most important lesson of all– “True Love is the most powerful magic of all.”

Yes, I’ve definitely got a soft spot for fairy tales. Always have. I love the way these ones are being told and blended into this beautiful tapestry. Are you a Once Upon A Time fan? Are there any lessons from the show that you’d like to impart? Is there another show that’s gotten you hooked? What life/love lessons did you catch?

 

Unforgotten

My Sister, My Brother & Me

I feel you reach out
On gentle breeze,
Your soft touch
A comforting caress.

I hear your mischief
In the laughter of children;
A reminder as they play
Of innocence at its best.

See your warmth and care
In a puppy’s soulful eyes
The head resting on my knee;
Comfort to give and take.

On salty tears,
I recall the bitter and sweet,
Both joy and reflection
Of what was and will never be.

With love,
Goodbye is never final.
The heart holds tight,
Memories live on forever.

Hey Baby Brother,

Tomorrow’s your birthday. It blows my mind when I realize you would’ve been 36. It doesn’t feel like 26 years since we lost you. Part of me wonders where the time went, but that’s how it goes, right? Life happens. You move on? Wish I could tell you it was easy for us all, but you know that’s a lie.

It’s strange, really. I’ve always had a harder time around your birthday than I ever did around your death. Not sure why that is. Of course, it did not help matters when one of the worst tragedies to ever happen on US soil also happened on your birthday. Part of me wanted to lash out… Like I wasn’t dealing with enough? Because, you know…it’s all about me. Except it’s not. More families lost loved ones, like we lost you….senselessly. My empathy kicks in. We know how it feels only too well, right?

I found a great guy… It took him a long time to win your stubborn big sister over, but he finally did. He knows me, heart and soul….even all those secret places I usually hide. Of course he’s heard about you. In fact, not only does he share a September birthday with you, he knows how close we were and how hard it is for me around your day. We decided to get married close to this day to help infuse this time with some good memories…and to honor your life.

You’ll be happy to know, we still feel your presence. We’ve never lost our connection to you and we keep your memory alive. Do you know that most of your best friends are still in touch with us? They still bring you up…talk about how much they miss you. Just goes to show…age has nothing to do with the impact a person can make. You taught me that. Live life to the fullest. Look for the good. Who knew a 10 year old could be so smart?

Anyway, enough being maudlin. You know it’s not really my style. I hope you like the poem I wrote for you…a little reminder to myself of all the ways you’re still with me. Yeah, I’m still writing. Still singing, too. 🙂

Love you!

 

Ignoring Your Spidey Senses

Yup! I finally did it, boys and girls. I stupidly allowed myself to get sucked into the vortex of one of those pointless debates. You know the ones I’m talking about. The one you jump into innocently enough because it sounds interesting and voice your thoughts on the matter.

You think to yourself, we’re all grown ups here. Healthy discussion and debate can be a good thing. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to influence someone into looking at something from a different perspective. Maybe they’ll even cause me to see things a bit differently. I mean, isn’t that what we all strive for when we get into those deeper discussions?

And then….BAM!!!! Instead of the debate you imagined you’d have, you find the opposite has happened. You realize when that one person disagrees with you that there’s no changing anyone’s mind. In fact, you feel the judgments and closed-mindedness rolling off the response and think to yourself….”I should probably back away”. But you don’t.

Argh! So rarely do I not listen to my inner voice! But the initial post belonged to a long time friend, so I shrugged my instincts away. I assumed there would be no personal attacks and name calling. That we’d stick to the issue brought up. My mistake. Should have known better. Oddly enough, my first foray into this particular post was to ask for clarification. By the time I finally backed away, this stranger who had never met me in my life had decided that I’m someone who enjoys labeling and passing judgment on people.

Yup, should’ve listened to my gut. Instead, I found myself annoyed…at me…for putting myself in a position like this. As most of you know, I refuse to publically discuss my political feelings for two reasons… One, it’s not really anyone’s business but mine. Two, lately politics has brought out the absolute worst in people and it’s made me sad to see the mud slinging and bullying that’s gone on from both sides.

Since the discussion of givers/takers was loosely based on Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged I should have considered that similar rules that I use around politics should apply. Unfortunately for me, my brain took a vacation in that moment. I mean, seriously. How likely would it be that nastiness would ensue over the idea that there are makers and takers in this world. Foolish, foolish me.

What about you guys? Have you ever found yourself in the middle of an unwinnable discussion that you regretted involving yourself in? What was your discussion about?

Redemption

Sunrise

 

Now I lay me
Down to sleep.
Close my eyes,
Start to weep.
Gaze up at
A shining star,
Wonder how
I fell so far.

Where’s the girl
I used to be,
Filled with
Possibility?
Is she gone
Without a trace?
Would I even
Know her face?

When did she;
Forget to dream;
Trapped inside
A silent scream?

Close my eyes,
Contemplate.
Consider how
To change my fate
Reach out for
My destiny;
Be who I was
Meant to be.

Take a breath,
Dry my tears.
Greet the dawn,
Face my fears.
Whisper,
“Give it one more try.”
Look out world,
Watch me fly.

No more regrets.
Throw them away.
Step fearless to
The light of day.

The future’s mine
To shape and mold,
If I am willing
To be bold,
The endless
Possibility
Is waiting patiently
For me.

Hold tightly to
Life’s precious gift,
Enjoy life’s road,
Each bend and shift.
So if I die
Before I wake,
There’s no remorse
I have to take.

Prevent A Summer Tragedy

I still remember that summer. It was nearly 30 years ago. I was 11 years old. Six months ago we’d moved back to the states. Six months ago my kid brother didn’t have two best friends named Chester and his cousin, Leo. They were both sweet kids. Rambunctious, playful…a lot like my brother. And they both wanted to marry me. Let’s face it, that was never going to happen. The boys were four years younger than me, but it was flattering.

Every summer our church used to have a group summer retreat at Little Grassy Lake in a small town near Carbondale, IL. They’d rent out cabins and have all sorts of fun events for the kids. This was our first summer to go. Many of the families headed out that Wednesday, but we weren’t able to leave until Friday and would only be staying for the weekend….or so we thought.

Even at 11, I knew something was horribly wrong when we arrived. Groups of people were clumped together. Close friends were huddled in circles. The sound of tears and wailing could be heard the instant the van door was opened. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was too much like what it sounded like when my youngest brother died nearly a year before. Part of me wanted to wrap my arms over my ears to try to block out the noise that was tearing away at my heart. It was too much, too soon. But I couldn’t.

Instead, my sister, brother and I, along with one of the friends we’d come with held hands as we waited for her parents to find out what had happened. Unfortunately, voices carry…

“I can’t believe Chester Drowned!”

That horrible, horrible sentence seemed to be coming from every direction at once.

My head turned toward the bank further down the hill. Men in blue uniforms were there with a stretcher. Someone was strapped in and covered. Considering the distended belly I couldn’t imagine it could be the same, thin little boy who had argued with his cousin just last week about which of them was going to win my hand.

How was this possible, I wondered. There had been tons of people at the lake. Where had his parents been? Had they not been watching? But I knew better. His parents were protective! What about his many cousins? If he’d been screaming or flailing, he would’ve been rescued immediately! Unlike what happens in the movies, I can guarantee you this never happened. As if I hadn’t already learned how quickly a situation could turn fatal, this was one more example…

Sadly, the search afterward had been caught on video by one of the people there. Friends and family had been looking for him for about 30 minutes before they’d found him and pulled him out. He was already gone. It was the first time I’d seen what a drowning death looked like, and let me tell you, it’s nothing like the movies.

This year a link showed up in my Facebook talking about silent drowning. For Chester and because it’s summertime, I thought I needed to share the link here as well. You never know when it might save a life. Drowning, Quick And Silent-How To Spot Someone In Trouble

The other thing I’ll ask…. Please, please, PLEASE! If you have a pool, supervise your kids. Don’t leave it up to other children to watch out. My neighbors down the street had a few children…I’d see them playing in the street all the time. The youngest was about 2. The parents were never out there; instead they left it up to the 8 and 10 year olds to watch the younger ones. Coming home from work a couple years ago I drove past their house. It was surrounded by police, ambulance and fire trucks.

Thinking maybe one of the kids had finally been hit by a careless driver while playing in the street I said a silent prayer that the injury wasn’t very serious. It wasn’t until I got in to work that one of my employees asked if I knew the little 2 year old baby who’d drowned. Apparently, in the papers it noted that the child had been left in the “supervision” of an older sibling and had made it into the back yard. She’d fallen into the pool. By the time someone noticed it was too late.

I won’t go on a rant about careless parenting. They paid the ultimate price. No one deserves to feel that kind of pain. No child should have to go through that. What I will ask is that you educate yourselves…and love and protect your children. You never know when this knowledge could save a life.

 

My Battle With The Foot In Mouth Disease

My fantastically funny friend, Gloria Richard wrote a post yesterday entitled Ever Lost Your Brain’s Remote Control. After recounting several of her hilarious mishaps over the years, she challenged us to share some of our moments. As I sat thinking about the many idiot moments I’d had over the years I figured I’d share some of my own. Hey, turnabout is fair play, especially since I shared some of my friends’ more awkward moments in the past.

Those of us who tend to say what we think know that there is a hazard that goes with being blunt. For example, there was a young lady that I used to work with at a popular electronic retailer store. I was new, and she and I were pretty friendly. The weather had taken on a cooler edge recently, so when I walked in, I was wearing my black leather biker jacket.

It was a men’s jacket and I loved it…still do, actually. I was the first “real” gift hubby ever gave to me. Anyway, back to the story. As I came walking down this young lady’s department, she came over to say hi and the following conversation ensued.

Her (with a big grin and a nudge) : Hey there, Biker Bitch!
Me (with a grin and a wink) : Better watch your step or I’m going to make you my bitch.
Her (eye contact, not laughing) : Any time.
Me (blinking) : Um, yeah….

Oops! Yeah, I’d heard the rumors about her being either lesbian or bisexual, I just didn’t care. It just never occurred to me that a simple off the cuff response could create such an interesting ripple. Well, it confirmed the rumor if nothing else…LOL! Oddly enough, that moment helped to cement our friendship.

Unfortunately my talent for the awkward started much earlier. It’s the hazard of being a person whose mouth rarely stops moving. Sometimes we can be deliberately hurtful and regret it later. My “lesson learned” moment actually became my college application essay. Here’s the short version.

While we lived in the Philippines we had some live in help. A maid and a nanny. Hey, the dollar stretches quite well in third world countries. Anyway, as my mom is also Filipina, our servants were more like family and were treated as such. I was about 7 years old when my mouth got me into trouble.

Nanny (looking around at toys strewn all over the floor): Kitt!
Me (fake innocent look): What?
Nanny (pointing at all the toys): Put away all your toys or you’re not playing outside.
Me (irritated): Pfft! Your the maid. Isn’t that what we pay you for?
From somewhere behind me….
Mom (snarling): Kitt. What. Did. You. Just. Say?

Yeah…mom had walked up behind me and heard the whole thing. She was NOT happy. I got my butt whipped, had to clean up my toy AND I got grounded for the day. No bueno.

My sophomore year in high school there was a 4 day choral music festival held at a one of the private universities in Michigan, culminating in a concert on Saturday afternoon with the University Orchestra. The private high schools tied to this particular religion from the surrounding 5 states sent the top 2 singers from each section (Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass) to go to this event. It was a privilege to be chosen, and I was one of the 2 sopranos chosen to represent my school. We were put up in the women’s dorm and spent most of the time rehearsing songs in German (Haydn) and Latin with a couple of English ones thrown in for good measure.

As you can imagine, after a while we became restless. Several of us congregated in one of the dorm rooms early that Saturday afternoon waiting for the concert. Keep in mind, most of us were little suburban kids. I, being half Asian, was the closest we had to an ethnic mix in that room. To this day I’m not exactly sure how it started…all I remember was thinking I was going to die.

What had I done? I sang Whitney Houston’s “Greatest Love Of All”. And not in my normal voice. NOOOO. I was singing it at the top of my lungs, over enunciating each word with theatrical dramatics.

“I Buhleeve that children are hour fyuchaaaa.
Teech them well ahnd let them lead the waaaayyyy.
Show them ahl the beauty they possess insiiiiide.
Give. Them. A Sense of pride.
To make it easiahhhh!”

The girls were all in a fit of giggles as I belted it out….and then came the knock on the door. My singing stopped. We all looked at each other, eyes huge and praying… Why? Because late that night an all black university from Canada had come down for an event the following week and were staying in the rooms across the hall from us.

Of course, with my luck…it WAS, in fact, several of the very nice ladies from that university. Here’s what happened:

My traitorous friend: Uh, hello?
Nice lady: Hi girls, we heard someone singing from down the hall. Who WAS that?
(Yup! You guessed it. All hands pointed at me as I slowly turned around to face the women in the doorway.)
Me: Sorry about that.
Nice lady: Why are you sorry? We thought you sounded GREAT!!!!
Me (blinking while my friends all tried to hide their laughter): Um… Thank you?

And just like that, they were gone… Thankfully they hadn’t realized I was poking fun at the way a lot of divas overdramatize song lyrics. As my friends cracked up, I was mortified. Seriously. What if I’d really offended them? Sooo not my intent.

Then there was the time I met the Pittsburgh Steelers Pro Football Hall Of Fame quarterback, Terry Bradshaw.

Okay…so I’m unapologetically an Dallas Cowboys fan, but still. I love football and I respect the game. That’s one of the reasons that every time I think of this moment I want to hide somewhere. Why? Because my usual eloquence eluded me that day in a big, BIG way…making me sound like a total airheaded bimbo (something I hate).

So the back story? Mr Bradshaw’s brother has a home in the Sarasota area. He’d come to town for a visit only to realize he’d left his camera bag back at home in his foyer. What did he do when he discovered this error? Why, what every wealthy man does, of course. He showed up to the local electronics store with his dad at opening (when it’s least crowded) and replaced everything he’d left behind.

The guys in the store were dying to talk to him and ask for his autograph, but figured it would be easier to break that ice if they sent a female in. As I qualified and was the only woman knowledgeable enough about football and his HOF career, they asked me to go over and talked to him. I didn’t want to disrespect his privacy so I declined being used in this manner. Fortunately for them, he noticed several guys hovering and welcomed them over to get his autograph and offered the opportunity to any employee in the store who wanted it.

Once he gave permission, the guys let me know and I walked over to get his autograph before I left. Here’s how THAT went down.

Me (in a timid voice that was so unlike me the guys all blinked): Excuse me Mr Bradshaw. Would you mind if I asked you for your autograph?
TB (with a gentle smile): Sure thing, Sweetheart. Do you have anything for me to sign?
Me (holding up small brochure form): This?
TB: Why don’t we find something a bit bigger?
(Grabs a manual receipt form)
Me (while he’s signing): Thank you so much! (And then I made my big faux pas that made me want to commit seppuku) I just want to say, I really LOVE watching you and Howie (Long) on Sundays.
TB (Showing class all the way, put an arm around me): Aw, thank you sweetheart. We need more fans like you.

 

Why was that so mortifying? Because I was well aware of his Hall of Fame career and his 4 Superbowl rings…and what did I mention? His Fox Sports thing? OMG! Yes, that is my head you hear banging on my desk. Never mind that this incident happened nearly 10 years ago. I’m still mortified…. But I also still have this awesome autograph.

My Terry Bradshaw Autograph

Okay, enough of my verbal face plants…. What about you guys? Care to share some of your more awkward moments? If not, I’m open to you sharing the awkward moments of friends and family. And just so no one can question my Cowboy Fandom….Here’s a pic of me at one of them many Cowboy events I’ve been to… Hanging out with some Cowboy Legends

Tailgate in Big D with Hubby, Bill Bates, Me, Everson Walls & Kenny Gant

And here’s another one of me with my girls at a game at Cowboy Stadium.

At The Game

 

 

 

What Does Good Friday Mean To You?

I’m going to warn you in advance. This is not my usual post. This is more reflective of the holiday we are entering into, so I’m well aware that it won’t be for everyone.

I suspect, even if you aren’t a very “religious” person, that if you ever did the “going to church” thing in your life this particular season brings out the reflectiveness in you. Yes, there’s the secular world of Easter bunnies and Easter egg hunts and more candy than any dentist is comfortable seeing, but for those of us who’ve either been raised in the church or spent some time going, we know the deeper meanings in this holiday.

Last night I performed for the first time in a Maundy Thursday service. Some know this service better by Holy Thursday or Covenant Thursday. Basically, it’s the day of The Last Supper of Christ, spent with his disciples. Although we did a few songs, it was the Negro Spiritual “Were You There” performed with a friend, Acapella in the dark that was the most personally moving. The darkness was symbolic of His death and burial. For those of you who haven’t heard the song before, here’s a lovely version. In fact, if you close your eyes and just listen, it will touch you.

Anyway, as I listened to the scripture readings last night, I found myself reflecting on the disciples, Peter in particular. I found it ironic that Peter was the one who came to Jesus asking about how often he should have to forgive. Peter thought forgiving someone 7 times was a lot back then, and Hebrew law would’ve agreed with him. That was generous! Jesus, however, told him 70 x 7…which back then translated to infinite.

As I thought about his conversation with Jesus that Thursday night when he said (and I believe he meant it) that he would never deny Him, I imagined how devastated he was on that Friday when the rooster crowed. There was no question Peter loved Jesus, but in that moment his fear overwhelmed him. On that day, when his faith was put to the test, he denied Jesus and their relationship.

I wonder if he had nightmares after that, of having denied Jesus for the third time only to hear the rooster crow, remember Jesus’ words and meeting Jesus’ eyes. I imagine the look in Jesus’ eyes was a blend of compassion, forgiveness and hurt. Then I started thinking about my own life.

There was a young girl who I considered to be one of my closest friends back in 5th grade. One day in Science class, while sitting at my lab table with my 3 other partners, she walked by my table. Just as she was passing, her arm shot out and punched me hard in the stomach. My three lab partners were outraged. They wanted to report her to the teacher. I stopped them.

“Why?” one of the boys asked. “She hit you. That’s not right.”

I shrugged. “Don’t. She’s hurting. She just found out her parents are getting divorced.”

“So that makes it okay to hurt you?” the other one asked.

“No,” I answered. “It’s not. But it was easier for her to hurt me than to hurt her parents the way that she feels they’re hurting her.”

Before you think I’m telling you this story to make myself out to be some sort of saint, don’t worry. I’m not egomaniacal. The truth is she hurt my feelings. She betrayed my trust and we were never friends again. I was also fairly young and innocent back then.

As I got older I learned to be less forgiving. More quick to react in kind. More likely to live out the “eye for an eye” concepts. In fact, my inability to forgive nearly cost me a valued friendship just recently. Sadly, the only crime my friend committed was being related to someone who’d hurt me. I should have been able to let it go, but I didn’t. And I talked about it. And talked about it. And talked about it. To her!

She was beyond patient with me, but the time came where she had finally had it. She snapped and said something. Someone innocent paying for the actions of another. Not at all cool. It stopped me in my tracks and made me think. It took months before she was finally ready to talk to me again. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never did. I was insensitive, thoughtless and hurtful.

Two very different stories, aren’t they? It’s no wonder Jesus said we need to have hearts like children. Time and experience have a way of coloring our perspectives. So I think back to Peter with a better understanding of how humbling it must have been to realize just how much he now needed the forgiveness from his Master. Forgiving the unforgiveable. I bet he thought back to that day when he asked Jesus about it, grateful now, about his answer, realizing just how undeserving he was of that gift in that moment.

More importantly, it made me realize just how hurt Jesus probably was in the moment that Peter denied him, though he knew it was coming. His best friend, denying he even knew him at the biggest trial of his life. Personally, I’m grateful for his forgiving heart and for his sacrifice. Without it, this world would be a hopeless place.

So my question to you guys… What does this holiday mean to you? Do you celebrate Good Friday? There is no judging here. Please don’t misunderstand. These are simply my personal beliefs and not meant to reflect anyone else’s.

Here’s a song that I feel reflects exactly why God is so good.