I can find my way through the house in the dark and recognize a coming home car sound as it pulls in the driveway. I am pretty good at being so eerily quiet that no one wakes up as I listen to their sleeping. I was a little girl who was skilled in planning for good, bad, violent,scary. I am still uneasy with the uncertainties of people because I need to plan for being safely hidden. Trivial things that I don’t know the outcome or what will be said or done sort of freak me out. This is the burden of a childhood of needing to know what would happen when daddy got home.
When I was a little girl, my daddy backed his car into the spot between two trees covered in purple wisteria. Sometimes he came inside and we had supper. Other times I waited for the sound of the creaky car door shutting and then I’d still myself for voices, questions, shouting, sometimes loud sounds of hands hitting my mama’s face, arms, back, kicking her back. I cowered, I hid, I was ready because I knew he stayed in the car too long with his paper bag covered bottle and thoughts.
Today, I read Chapter 4 of Bonnie Gray’s Finding Spiritual Whitespace. I was one with Bonnie as she detailed the porch scene, violent and sad. I connected, I was moved. I thank God for her bravery and her healing.
I will continue to read and continue my journey into sharing the unspoken horrors, thereby freeing up space for Jesus and his peace.
I will unpack, uncover, explain the scars…the scars I have eluded to…and in the sharing, in the bold connecting I will tell others. Jesus is my redeemer…the one who needs the space occupied by horror. I will empty the bad, horrible,scary, stuff and I will free up space for peace, for spiritual whitespace.