David and Jonathan

Today is Sunday, so as I have been doing for the last year or so, I went to my church, the Metropolitan Community Church.  During the month of June, the MCC celebrates what is called Pridetide, celebrating the diversity of all people of all belief systems, all lesbians, gays, transgendered and bisexual, along with all other colors and spectrum's of the rainbow that makes up human kind.

Today we were blessed with a special service that was conducted by both Nancy and Judy, two beautiful women of our congregation.  The passages that were particularly moving were that of the story of Ruth and Naomi, and the other about David and Jonathan.

The story of Ruth and Naomi is one I had not known much about, but the gist of the story was that Naomi was Ruth's mother-in-law, and both their husbands had died, and Naomi had lost both of her sons, making Ruth and Orpah, her daughter-in-laws, widows as well.  Naomi brought both of her daughter-in-laws back to the lands of their parents and encouraged them to go back to their people to live out their lives.  Orpah did just that.  But Ruth refused, because she loved Naomi, more than a mother-in-law, and told her that "wherever thou goest, I will go. And wherever thou dies, I will die and be buried next to you."  Ruth had a powerful love for Naomi, and that powerful love was mocked by their neighbors.

The story of David and Jonathan was similar, where in the bible the verses speak of "David's love for Jonathan, and Jonathan's for David, surpassed that of their love of women." 

I was never aware of that passage in the bible.

I was aware of my son, David, and his strong friendship with Jonathan, who I used to call my second son.  They were virtually inseparable all through the end of elementary school, middle school, and what high school they had together.  I would take David and Jonathan camping out at Lake Mead before it was a national park.  We would go fishing from the shore, and my father would take the boys out on his tiny boat to fish on as regular a basis as his old boat would work.  My brother took the boys to learn how to hunt small game, jackrabbits, quail, basically anything that moved in the desert.  I remember David brought home a jackrabbit he had killed and skinned, was so proud of his kill, and we soaked it in a brine bath overnight then put it in the freezer.  I never did get to try to cook his jackrabbit.

I have fond memories of what David, Jonathan, Rebecca and my partner Ruth at that time, would do for our recreation.  Today with the stories at church, I broke down and cried like a baby.  Cried like David had died yesterday, cried like Jonathan, who also died at a young age, had died yesterday.  I cried about Ruth's song, because I, too, had been told those same words as an oath to me that was broken without remorse.  I cried for the time I missed with my daughter, Rebecca, who thankfully survived the death of her only brother, but not without some serious emotional scars, not the least of which was not having a mother fully present during her crucial teenage development years.  I was absent, and eventually became physically absent by moving away.

The most important lesson I took from today's service is that Jesus taught us that it is only when we forgive those that have hurt us, including forgiving ourselves for our own trespasses, only then in the forgiveness process can we find true peace.  "Peace I give you.  My peace I leave unto you." 

Peace.  The one thing I have been searching for has been here in my heart the whole time.  I need to forgive myself for my trespasses, including those I have trespassed by talking badly about my father and mother.  I need to ask for their forgiveness for my transgressions, both before and after they died.  I need to ask forgiveness from both David and Jonathan for not having let them go before now, and for any thing I forgot to do for them, and any time I forgot to tell them that I love them.

I especially need to forgive myself and ask forgiveness of my precious daughter, Rebecca, for the many trespasses I have done against her, ask for her forgiveness for my not being present when she needed me most.  I am so sorry that I wasn't able to be stronger for you, Rebecca.  You deserved that in a mother, and lucky for you, many others have been able to fill in the gaps that I left in your life.  But please know this: I love you more than life itself.

So Peace I leave you.  My Peace I give unto you.  Forgiveness is the key that sets you free.

The Universe is Kind...