Father's daughter

I saw her sitting there in the soft armchair, with her shoulders squinted. The setting sun was playing with her blond hair making it look golden.

When we were small we played with dolls together and ran on the streets, telling people that we were sisters. I felt very protective of her because she was younger to me. She was her father's baby girl when she was born but later as the years passed he was very possessive of her that he would not let her play with others.

Now its been over five years that she left her parents house and worked in a foreign country. She could earn the money and provide a decent life, she decided which man will stay in her life.

And today she sat and told me the story of her grown up adventures, her demanding job responsibilities and broken marriage.

With all the success and failure she had, I noticed her voice shake when she told me about her father, whose words still ring in my mind. He told her that she was his disappointment and that she never fulfilled his desires for her. He had his dream but he never shared them with his only daughter.

My heart ached for her because the Father's words cut the heart deep.

Social Vaccuum

There is no one to blame for the social vacuum one finds herself in upon the return to her home country after 4 years; after all, relationships are maintained better when face to face, over a cup of tea, through the long phone conversations, weddings, evening walks, birthday parties and many other tangible ways. For the last five years I was not able to be a part of it because of the distance, except letters exchange with just few that are still interested.

This time when I went home I discovered that it is not as cozy as it used to be. It is true that the central square looked beautiful with the petunias blooming, but something was missing behind all the expensive Mercedes and Land Cruisers, inside the glittery and full of sham supermarkets and malls, and in city's marshrutkas with glassy looks.

Imprisoned

In anger we slam the doors so loud that it echoes many years down the road;
we put a lock that no one can find a key to it, we remain the captives of our own offense and hurt.

Sun

I did not notice the storm outside the window because the sun was shining in my heart.

What is your inspiration?

Many great things inspired by these two great forces - either love or hate.

Which one of these inspires you?

Ficus tree

I am a spontaneous shopper. I went and bought a ficus tree. Now it sits in a pot on our balcony. So much nicer with the green around!

YOU

I look back at the 5 years together, I know it was a right choice I made.
I told my son that I made choice for him as well, because now he has a very good father.

I loved you in the five years we spend together, giggled and laughed, cooked meals and washed dishes together, comforted each other, shared the very intimate of love, challenged and reminded each other of God's faithfulness and together took journeys in faith.

As I think of you now, you are that special man my heart loves and I feel thankful for you today.

Liberty

There is liberty in being honest, when we face the world without the pretense. Most of the time our culture and experiences teach us the tricks and we lose our true selves, in a race of competing with others, in longing to be accepted.

We cant always afford ourselves to be just what we are, and we often get stingy to offer grace to others. There is that place for the change, when we have to learn new things, when we have to improve the things we already learnt, and always we have to strive for the better - but honesty should not be our price.

Honesty is not only to tell the truth about our feelings and matters of life - it is also a defining position from where I stand equal without demeaning the other and say that she had failed me but there is another chance, it is not finished, there is always hope, there is always spring after the cold winter. It is also ability to accept my own failure, to mend the broken trust and bare the consequences.

Life waived in with honesty is liberating, I don't have to be frightened that I might loose my step and get confounded by the puzzle I have created. I walk and breath freely, when I remember the three core-values: love, honesty and forgiveness.

Ears That Hear

We all need someone in our life who can listen to our story, some days we are ready to tell our story to a wall. The deep desire is more than just narrating to a person; we look for compassion, understanding and acceptance. We also look for a companion on our journey, and some lucky of us find it in our spouse, who is both a friend and a partner, who can hear our heart, who is strong and able to stand with us when we are weak and fearful.

May we never find ourselves so lonely that we have to talk to a wall.