My Miracle

All the confessions and apologies began a trip into the depths of remorse. Besides the side of me that needed to be right and in control, there was another side of me.  A me that had set out to make myself into a good person. I realized I hadn’t accomplished that and there was no starting over.

The remorse produced a kind of spiritual despair that is indescribable. I felt an empty space inside that cried out to be filled with something good. But I could find nothing good to put into it.

The next morning a telephone call asked me to help with a funeral at my church. I said I had been quite ill and was unable to help with anything. My caller did not urge me.

As I hung up the phone, a voice came to me. It called me by name and said was its child. It told me I didn’t ever have to do another thing. That all that was intended was just for me to BE.

I heard it in my head and I experienced it all the way to my feet. All the anger and guilt and despair disappeared. And what came into the space inside was a kind of joy I never expected to experience.

I began to laugh—at the unimaginable absurdity that such a miracle should happen to me. The laughing felt wonderful. I realized I had never laughed like this before—a laughter that came from a sense of well-being throughout my entire body—and mind—and spirit. And the laughing was such fun that I kept on laughing.

My Great Confession

Reluctantly, my family agreed to sit down together and listen to what I had to say.  They were exhausted by my uncontrollable and inexplicable sobbing.  It was painful for them to watch me, be with me.

What I had to say was nothing short of amazing.  I asked their forgiveness—forgiveness for all the times I was wrong and should have apologized but wouldn’t.  As tears flowed again, I told them how sorry I was for being the way I had been.

The way I had been was a woman so determined to be  in control, to be right, that I never admitted I was wrong, said I was sorry, for ANYTHING.  Even when I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was wrong, I would not admit it.

When verbally backed into a corner with my misdeeds, I would turn everything around and accuse a family member of making the situation look as if it was my fault when it wasn’t.  I always put the blame on something or someone else.

My family was flabbergasted!  For a while, speechless. Then they told me about the many times they had wished for an apology from me, and it never came.  They told me they finally gave up hoping they would ever hear one.  My family had given up hope of ever hearing an apology from me, and here I was confessing and apologizing for EVERYTHING.

As I repeated my tearful confession of guilt and shame, I could see fatigue taking over.  What I had to say was so heavy to hear that they finally could listen no more.  I think we all took naps that afternoon.

The Unexpected Crisis

My husband met me at the airport as I was arriving home from a meeting out of state. As soon as I saw him, the tears I had been holding back with all my might for hours were released and I began sobbing in his arms.

“What in the world is the matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened at the meeting to upset you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I kept thinking on the way home that maybe something terrible had happened to you or one of the boys.”

“No, we’re all fine. Or at least I think so. Robert is still on his Boy Scout camping trip. He’ll be home tomorrow. But I haven’t had word of any problem. Now just relax and I’ll put in a call to check on the troop.”

“Okay,” I said, still shaking with sobs.
“Now, you know no news is good news, right?”

“Right,” I said, still sobbing.

“Well, let’s get your bags and go home.”

All the hour’s drive home I sniffled and wept, trying my best to stop. We reached home and the phone call was made. All was well in the scout troop.

And still I wept. I was frightened, more frightened than I’d ever been in my life. I had no idea what caused the tears but I couldn’t stop them. Through the night and the next day the tears continued. I believed I needed tranquilizers or other drugs, but a little thought in the back of my head told me that I would be all right only if I didn’t take any drugs. A therapist friend diagnosed the situation as a crisis and said I would get through it if I didn’t thwart the process with drugs or alcohol.
Sometime during the next day I was moved to ask all my family members to gather because I had something important to tell them. I call that now my Great Confession.


The Impetus to Dialogue with our Inner Wisdom

As I look back on my life-changing conversation with my Inner Wisdom, I think my pastor’s words to me were indeed inspired.  He did not say go pray, read Scripture, etc.  Instead, he said, “Listen to the message the pain has for you.”

The dialogue for any of us is not a courageous act, leap of faith, or surrender.  Our free will is never compromised.  It is simply a conversation–an interview with our Inner Wisdom.  Questions and answers.  Nothing more.

And yet so much more!  What we find is a force for good that wills us so much more than we can imagine.  it can do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.  Yet it will not coerce.  It invites our cooperation–our participation in our own miracle through our permission.

Being so convinced in my dialogue that the force beneath my pain willed me life and not death, I readily gave permission.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, let the process begin.”

No more questions, no hesitation.  The resolution was so satisfactory that I folded up the piece of paper, put it away, and forgot that the dialogue had taken place.

Some time later the miracle occurred.