Tag: forgiveness

Sisters

My sister is the one I turn to when I want to share something. She always helps me feel better if I’m feeling scared or sad. I know she is there and loves me. If something wonderful has happened, she knows just how to celebrate.

It hasn’t always been easy between us. I am the Elsa, the oldest sister. She is the Anna, the younger of us by 6 years. When I graduated from college, I went home until I began work on another academic degree. Karen was almost 16 and as a middle child was a peacemaker and very sensitive and compassionate. My parents and I were having a tough time — conflict arose between me and my Dad. He was a military chaplain and I was an activist whose antiwar stance was rooted in the values of the faith my parents had instilled in me.

Karen was then in her late teens and admired me as her big sister. She was caught between our parents and me. I saw her as siding with our Dad. Although she tried her darndest to strike up conversations with me and even mimicked how I dressed. I avoided her. I resented her company when she asked to ride into town with me whenever I left the house.

Why did I feel that way? I didn’t like who I had become — I was lonely and lost without my campus comrades. I was struggling to work out what believed, what I loved and what I wanted to do rather than simply what I opposed. I had more questions than answers at that time, and I didn’t feel like any kind of healthy model for anyone else.

Karen’s admiration made me painfully aware of how lost I felt. One evening she followed me to my car and asked if she could come along. Something in me snapped. I don’t remember what I said but I know it was hurtful because I wanted her to leave me alone. I chose to verbally attack her where it would hurt most. It took many difficult years for her to let me near her heart again. She built a wall to protect herself from my hurt. Eventually my apologies and attempts at rebuilding trust met her brave risk at opening herself to me. Now we share hearts and even souls. Her life has blessed me in many ways. I am grateful.

First Snow 2019

Opening the curtain this morning . . .

. . . I sucked in my breath. The world had changed overnight. Covering everything — the branches of shrubs, the lawn that had been dotted with the last leaves of fall, the porch bench — was a wispy layer of white . . . just enough to mask the unfinished tasks of fall cleanup still to be done. Such stillness and perfection.

The first snow. It always brushes the landscape with forgiveness, covering even the rustiest, ugliest rake (left out and forgotten when dinner called) with soft white. What we might think of as imperfections dotting our yard — a fallen limb that remains from the wind storm earlier this week, dead flower stalks not yet cut down, the place in the garden fence that needs repair where the deer trampled it in search for veggies — such imperfections disappear beneath a white puff that covers it all.

This white beauty will disappear by noon when the sun returns. But for this moment, I marvel at the miracle an inch of frozen water can bring . . . and am grateful to the Creator who gave me eyes to see a white miracle.