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Blowing Out Twenty-Six Candles

Today I commemorate the night twenty-six years ago when at the age of fourteen years old I made my way to the altar of a small storefront church in Western Massachusetts and as is traditionally said: “gave my life to Jesus”.

Looking back, so much has transpired…enough to write a book. There were times of pure ecstasy when heaven swept down and with hurricane force swept my soul clean for the eternal embrace of eternity. More times than not, I found myself battling the ravages of a hell that would not recognize my birthright and release me from its destructive stranglehold. I learned to breathe in the suffocating heat of oppression. I learned to stand in the midst of adversity and somehow trust that “this too would pass”.

I find myself in a better place now. I’ve learned to embrace the good with the bad and see purpose in everything. More so, I’ve come into a deeper place of love and appreciation for who and what God has made me to be and do. I tell you it makes all the difference to live and breathe out of this perspective.

The following poem was written in 2005. As I sit here and reflect on my journey I am moved by God’s faithfulness and persistence over my life. He truly has and continues to be vested in me. The good work He began in me, He is determined to complete and perfect. For that and so much more, I am truly grateful. If He never did another thing for me, I would still be forever indebted to his loving-kindness .

Finally, It took him three years but he finally came out. He finally learned that crooked trees will never straighten out no matter how much you wish for it and beg and repress what lies deep inside. He finally came to terms with the fact that you cannot cover the sky with your hands. What is will always be and sooner or later you either embrace it or lose yourself in the struggle… The struggle to want to be what was not dealt in the cards. He finally came to terms with the hand that had been dealt. No more running, no more hiding, no more seeking after death. No more lying to self, no more pretending. Time to walk out the journey laid before him from before he was in the womb…that womb that clung to him and desired him regardless of the poison that would try to come in and abort him. But their was a destiny to be played out, a path to be taken that no woman could come against. So he sprang forth, he learned to breathe even as he was being smothered by an insecure love that knew no better. He learned to walk even when he was carried for much too long. He learned to exist even though the umbilical cord remained wrapped around his neck. And so when he finally was able to get away from the rage and the fire that swept through his childhood, he developed a keen ability to run and hide. He ran so far and with so much abandon that when he finally ran out of breath, he ran hard into himself, shattering the image that he had so desperately tried to become. All he had left were the shattered pieces of shame and guilt that pierced deep into his flesh. He bled until he was emptied out and finally came to terms with the simple truth that would set him free… “You can run but you cannot hide” and when you finally come to terms with who you are and what you have been destined to be…then you won’t have to run anymore because you will have sprouted the wings of your calling and you will learn to fly. So realizing that he was not put here to walk, or run, but to fly, he took a deep breath, crossed himself and jumped into the light. He came out into the glorious day and took that leap of faith, calling things that are not as though they were and claimed his birthright. His right to be free, at peace with himself, and determine how it all will end. For when the end does come it will not find him cowering in a corner or pretending in the shadows. He will be radiant and full of life even as he takes his last breath knowing that nothing was wasted but simply transformed into what he was put here to be… An extension of  eternity.

The Overcomers Life

Thursday, January 12, 2006

One more lap… Amazed at how dead things come back to life, he stood up with confidence and lifted his voice once again. “No longer dead, no longer dead” poured forth from his once parched conscience as the first rays of the morning light surfaced triumphantly from the tiny crevices and began to filter into the room. Deeply thankful he had learned to wait it out, he became emboldened by that life-preserving thought and picked up those resurrecting words and draped them over himself like a mantle, an anthem, a royal decree. No longer dead, no longer dead… And that is how the new day’s proclamation had been set forth, as with supernatural confidence he stepped out of himself. Every step he took, he breathed in hope and laid waste to the cacodemonic fears that had in vain tried to keep him from running the race set before him. Welcome to the Overcomers Life!

The Night The Angel Visited Me

Sunday, February 19, 2006

His whole being shone with brilliant light as he laughed and sat at the edge of my bed and spoke. ” Believe me when I tell you, Champion, that I have nothing on you. We long to experience what you do on a daily basis. Yes, this may sound ludicrous and downright impossible to you, but we watch your every step and how we wish we had what you possess”. And before I could speak, he answered ” Free will…the choice to do as you please. You see, we were created to do His will and His will alone, no questions asked. He commands and we immediately obey. Yes, I know that you have read and heard that a long, long time ago, a third of my kind rose up in rebellion and were ultimately cast down for it. But that was long ago and never again has it even come close to that horrific battle of the wills. Don’t misunderstand me, we are content and truly full of joy to do His bidding, for he truly is easy to please, contrary to what you may have heard, but all the same we look at you, Son of Adam, as well as the Daughters of Eve, with great wonder and awe…simply because you make choices every day.” Sensing my confusion as I tried to fathom the wonder of it all, he spoke again, tenderly and with great peace: “With every choice you make, with every desire to do good, and to obey, you bring yourself closer to his fiery heart. His heart of passion and desire for you. In short, we were not designed to bring such joy and intense emotion as you and your kind does. You possess the power to move his heart to the heights as well as to cause him intense sorrow. We cannot fathom it, even though we are privileged to join him fully in His emotions. We laugh with him over you, dance and shout with joy with him over you, as well as weep with him over you every step of the way. Heaven, dear one, the throne room, is full of emotion! Yes, filled with rapture, as you call it” he said with a smile. And with that he rose and extended his wings to the farthest corners of the room and uttered these last words: “Be not jealous or envious of my position, and think not more highly of me than you do of yourself, because I tell you the truth as I share this message of encouragement with you. We prepare a place with him, for you and all the others, where you will all sit with him for all of eternity and delight yourselves in one another. An eternal holy love affair greater and more worthy than these wings that you look upon now with amazement. These wings are my portion and my delight but they cannot compare to the future glory that lays waiting and in store for you. So be of good courage. Cheer up! Stop wishing for what was not meant to be. Trust in the greater plan and design of things. You’ll be glad you did and because of it, live more at peace in the here and now. Trust.” And with those words he wrapped himself up in his massive wings and rose up like the morning dew, leaving behind the aroma of green pastures after a gentle rainfall as I closed my eyes and gave thanks for the knowledge that I was so loved. I placed my right hand under my pillow and continued to rest knowing full well that weeping may endure for the night but joy will definitely come in the morning.

The Resting Tree: A modern-day Parabola

Once upon a time in a garden planted by the banks of a mighty river grew two young trees, side by side.

One tree was young and grew close to the ground. The other was much older and wider, growing straight and taller than the young tree. Everyone who passed by would remark on how grand the straight tree looked. Even the animals of the nearby forest preferred the taller tree; the birds making their nests high up in its branches.  The young tree was crooked and bent over and no one noticed it. It grew under the shadow of the bigger tree that with its imposing girth blocked out the suns rays.

Whenever it rained, the tall tree drank first and plenty, while the younger tree patiently waited and nourished itself from its roots growing deep in the earth. With little sunlight, the young tree bore small fruit while the older tree produced impressively large amounts. Yet no one ever ate from the fruit produced by the tall tree because it tasted bitter. The smaller tree’s fruit while small refreshed any passer-by’s thirst since it retained all the rain water it could get.

The crooked tree was intimidated by the older tree since she (the older tree) would call down every morning to him (the young tree) and say things like: “You are so small. You are taking up valuable space. I wish you would move. Then I’d have more room to grow and spread out my strong thick roots.” Day after day, the older more imposing tree would pick on the smaller tree and wish it away. The young crooked tree hung with branches slung low and said nothing but only hoped someone would come along some day and uproot him. “Then”, he thought to himself, “I will be at peace and never have to hear the older tree taunting me and despising my crookedness”.

This went on for many years. The older tree growing stronger and taller while the younger tree remained crooked and low taking what sun and rain the bigger tree did not need.

Then one day out of the eastern sky a torrential wind and rain swept down on the garden. For three days the winds raged and howled and uprooted many other trees in the garden. The mighty river heaved and overflowed it banks and swept anything in its path. The leaves of the mighty tree fell off and its lower branches broke off.  The animals who had hidden in her ran and flew away for better places of safety. As for the younger tree, since it stood under the older tree, it was spared the brunt of the storm and escaped the ordeal with minor damage. Many of the animals who had fled the bigger tree took refuge in the younger tree.

When the devastation had ended, the two trees had survived but the older tree had major damage.

It was shortly after the tempest, the gardener finally returned from having been away for many, many years. He walked through his garden and inspected the aftermath of the storm, giving orders to his helpers to take all the fallen branches and throw them into a pile and let the sun dry them out. “They will be good for firewood” he said as he walked on.

When he came to the two trees that stood side by side, he inspected their leaves and branches and found that the younger tree had been spared much of the storm’s fury. He gave the following orders: ” Take  this tree and cut it down since it will better serve me for mending the fences destroyed in the storm”. And so it was that the mighty proud tree was cut down and never was heard of again.

As for the crooked tree, it never again heard the taunting of the older tree and went on to grow strong and beautiful. Many who came saw how it was ideal for providing shade from the scorching sun and took refuge under its low hanging leaves. Every one who came near and saw it exclaimed: “Here stands the Resting Tree!”

…and every one “in the third floor garden” lived happily ever after.

THE END.

Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Standing Still and Waiting

I was ready for a show down on Monday. Hardly slept the night before going through all the different scenarios of what I would say and do. Turns out I didn’t have to lift a finger or utter a word. Nothing happened. No one said a word to me. No one called me into a meeting. This is the second time in the last month or so where I was expecting to be spoken to and finally have the opportunity to bear my grievances. Makes me wonder what is going on. Almost feels like I am imagining half the stuff I hear and expect to happen. I guess better to have imagined it than to actually have it happen. Nonetheless, I am moving on for my sake. Can’t take the high level of anxiety and pressure I am experiencing lately. Definitely not fun going to work anymore. Miss those days. I hardly ever had to use the snooze button but it seems lately it is getting tapped a great deal. I just don’t want to have to face all the negativity and low morale surrounding me.

My heart goes out to my fellow co-workers. I can see the heaviness on their shoulders and the worry in their eyes. The laughter has been stifled and I’ve seen my share of puffy eyes in the last few weeks. The sense of camaraderie and teamwork has been greatly diminished. I want desperately to be the cheerleader in their midst and lift up everyone’s spirits but when you find yourself walking on eggshells and sense there is no one around you to offer you support, well, not much can get done but just get through the day. This saddens me greatly since we are already dealing with so much pain and loss and I would want nothing more but to be the breathe of encouragement and cheerfulness to those who are weighed down with life’s struggles. If only she could see how laughter does make the heart glad and does not in any way cheapen or rob the workplace of getting the job done. Honestly, I believe with all my heart I did my best work when my mouth was full of joy. Now, the work still gets done but with guarded heart.

We had a “code red” yesterday which means all the managers had to come down to the third floor and stand guard as the police officers escorted the angry and volatile birth parent out of the agency. She cursed with abandon and with each “fuck”, “shit” and “god-damn” the atmosphere became more uneasy and tense. I never know what to do in such situations but follow the offender’s every move with my eyes and stand at attention with my arms folded- at the ready to have to restrain or step in if things get physical or violent. I kept thinking to myself how I hoped no one was wearing a tie or anything that might be pulled by the tempest stomping around the reception area. I had already predetermined in my mind to run and grab a pair of scissors in case she got her hands and started yanking away. Nothing came of the episode. The young mother simply needed to let off steam and let everyone know that deep down she truly does love her baby. No doubt. She made it clear and I even had to turn away when she at last took her son’s coat in her hands and held it to her bosom, tears streaming down her face. God, this side of the veil is overflowing with so much grief and pain. Wanted to join in and wail with the young woman raising my voice and pierce the air with my lament. Yes girl, life sucks right now, especially when what you love is taken from you.

Went to an interview today and nailed it. Felt great. Crossing my fingers and hoping I get the call I long for…”Congratulations! You got the job!” It went so well that I was asked to complete the second phase of the interview and give the interviewer with references and the like. Praying I get it. Trusting God to open the door if it is meant to be. Close it tight if it is not meant to be. And give me patience to wait out whatever it is I must endure. So far God has demonstrated His blessings and covered me in favor. Thank you, Lord.

Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Prayer #2

Thank you for your amazing love. A love so stable and reassuring during times of uncertainty. Watch over my emotions. Help me to continue to agree with you and what you say about a given situation. You know my heart better than I know it myself and I cannot hide anything from you so I won’t even attempt it.

So I come and ask for your supernatural strength to continue to stand. Strengthen my back, that I may bear the weight of those who seem to have it out for me. Help me not to curse but to bless. Forgive me for wanting to lash out and give them a piece of my mind. Keep me from walking in the flesh but grant me power to perform acts of love and kindness. Amen.

Blog Bug and the Blood

I’ve caught the BLOG BUG. It has crept into my nail beds and made its way into my fingertips. I want to write away all the emotions  I carry bottled up inside. I want to let loose and express the swirling thoughts rampant within. Maybe then, I will find the answers I desperately seek. Answers to the nagging questions of my soul. I need to make room and through writing I will accomplish it. It will require an inordinate amount of discipline which I am not known for but I am learning to take baby steps, slow and deliberate steps, until I arrive at the threshold of truth and freedom.

Thankfully, I may not have time on my side but I have faith to see me through and deliver me to the place I was created for. The place of wholeness. If God is for me who can be against me? Even my own worst enemy (myself) cannot stand in the way for too long. Eventually, it too must give way to the weight and insistence of Heaven’s passionate desire to love me unconditionally. When you experience such dogged determination on the behalf of the one who died and rose again for you, well let me just say, you are fighting a losing battle. A battle which in the end was futile in taking up and attempting to fight. Herein lies my faith; He who began a good work in me will bring it to completion. I just love it when unquestionable and completely unmerited tokens of God’s word finally start to permeate the hard surfaces of a man’s spirit and eventually wins him over. Over to the light, the light of full acceptance.

In short, I know that I know, that I know, I will be more than alright in the end. This is not a question or a hope but the embrace of faith tells me so. I hear the voice of my Beloved and with unshakable assurance it speaks confidently to me: ” You were bought with a price. Redemption price. Irrevocable price. The price of Sacrificial love.

This note has been dipped in the Blood.