The Blossoming Desert

"Thus says the Lord: Say to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear not! Here is your God, He comes with vindication; with divine recompense He comes to save you. Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; then will the lame leap like a stag, then the tongue of the mute will sing. Streams will burst forth in the desert, and rivers in the steppe. The burning sands will become pools, and the thirsty ground, springs of water." --[Isaiah 35: 4- 7A].


I grew up in a staunchly anti-religion, anti-Catholic household. My parents were horrified when I married a Catholic man; just as disgusted as if I had declared that I wanted to marry a drug dealer or a man who beat me.

My life changed suddenly, the day my father passed away without warning, without even any prior illness. So much for doctors and diagnoses, treatments and second opinions. Was life really that abrupt? As soon as my father died, I had to move my frail, ill mother near to me. My mother, the Catholic-hater was IN my house.

My life had gone upside down. White was black, day was night, everything I had thought was true was a Lie.

I went to my pastor to seek help. We talked about my converting, since there was only one thing I knew for certain -- I HAD to draw closer to God.

And yet, the very idea of converting, right under the nose of my sacrilegious mother, totally terrified me!

I remember all this, because Isaiah 35: 4 was the exact Scripture that my pastor gave me to reflect upon: "Be strong, fear not! Here is your God."

I have to smile, looking back at all this; because, I had lived this Scripture. I guess I had always been too busy trying to raise myself up and avoid trauma; that, I had never had the luxury to reflect upon how God had saved me.

I spent a lot of time in the parish chapel during conversion, looking back upon my life, and pondering those times when God had quietly entered in and lifted me up.

I realized that my family was like the Pharisees in the story of Jesus healing the man who was born blind. My family judged others, denied the very existence of God, called believers as much as superstitious fools, and scoffed at the weak.

Jesus concludes in John 9: 39: "For judgment, I have come into the world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind."

My family was spiritually blind, but I saw. I SAW, as plain as day, that blacks were not throw-aways, but folks with dignity and soul. I SAW that the poor were not stupid or hapless, but just struggling with some awful twists of bad fortune. I saw these as plain as day. Was this God's Grace, that helped me to see ?

Whatever I said, mostly my family ignored it or laughed it off. I suggested that we give to charity and was mocked: " We don't GIVE our money away!"

My family and I developed a "mutual deafness". They did not listen to me; and I could no longer "hear" or take in their insults-- the daily verbal assaults from a sibling about how ugly I was; my sibling hitting me and my mother telling me that I needed to stop getting black-eyes, because I was embarrassing her. I lived either at school or holed up in my room. I lived in the Silence.

All, all were hemming me in. I was shutting down. I blocked out the world. I stopped speaking. I was mute.

One day, though, I was invited to sing in the church choir. I thought this was a coincidence. I thought it was because the minister was only desperate to fill slots in the choir stall.

I may have largely stopped speaking, and stopped "hearing" the ugliness around me. But, I began to sing in rehearsal. I sang in my room. I sang in the shower. I sang walking or biking to school. I could not stop hearing this music.

I sang "The First Noel". I sang "The Doxology". I sang "Faith of Our Fathers." I proudly sang in church.

All that singing made me feel like dancing. I took ballet classes. I danced all the way down the front hall of my grandparents' house. I performed water ballet at the lake. I leapt and twirled around my neighbors' expansive front lawn. In my imagination, I was a leaping unicorn, a glimmering white horse. I skipped to school.

Where my heart had been dry as a desert, God was sparking a tiny rivulet inside me. I was blossoming, despite my harsh environment.

My God had placed a glowing ember of courage in my heart. I WOULD praise him, in my singing, in my dance. I would see the Truth of who the weak and the lame and the blind really were.

And in truly seeing the weak and the lame and the blind, I would myself be healed. I would be strong.

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