Beyond Me. Carroll E. Arkema

Beyond Me

Beyond Me - Carroll E. Arkema

Скачать книгу
that Word pierces in order to heal.

      The cut goes deep to the marrow in the bone,

      But then from deep inside out we’re made whole.

      It was my father who told me this story.

      He was an Elder in that meeting room that day.

      He was amazed at God speaking through Arie,

      Twelve-Year-Old Face, Holy Heart

      You know how when sitting with someone

      Whom you’re meeting for the very first time,

      Your talk focuses on superficial things,

      And at this point everything is fine:

      It goes sort of like in a slow dance:

      You’ve gotten together out on the floor,

      But at first you don’t have much confidence,

      That you won’t make a stumbling misstep?

      But then you get into a good rhythm;

      You’re learning things about one another,

      Of a nature both factual and actual,

      Especially about the level of trust.

      So it happened one day I was sitting

      With a mother whom I had known before;

      This time she was there with her daughter,

      Poised, twelve, and appealingly demure.

      It’s June, so I ask about her summer plans.

      She tells me she’s going to an equine camp

      For two weeks with one of her friends;

      That she’s taking a year off from the other camp

      That she attended for five weeks last summer.

      With an air of authority she tells me this,

      As if she makes decisions like this all of the time.

      Next minute she’s twelve again, snuggling up to Mom,

      A slight wisp of a girl shyly telling me that

      She’s glad when Mom doesn’t have early morning meetings

      Because then she, Mom, and their dog Lulu

      Can all three walk together to her school.

      Then, this is the moment I’m talking about,

      In which the person says something which allows

      You to look deep into the heart of their being:

      You get a glimpse of just who they really are

      At their given age and at that moment in time.

      She leans forward and says, “Besides,

      I’m glad when my Mom is around

      Because I mosey.”

      Her voice dropped an octave or two,

      I didn’t quite hear her,

      So I said, “Pardon?”

      Suddenly there was a smile;

      Self-recognition shone through her face

      As she repeated herself,

      With almost embarrassment,

      “I mosey, I’m a moseyer.”

      Sweet, endearing, openly twelve.

      Leaving Mom, needing Mom.

      Wholly without artifice,

      Pre-artifice, an intimate

      Glimpse into the heart of herself.

      It’s our first meeting;

      She’s felt safe enough to be without charm,

      To pull back the veil from her face,

      And grace me with

      A glimpse of her heart.

      We all three chuckle a little;

      We all feel full and aglow.

      Consciously aware that what just happened

      Was a connection we’ll remember forever.

      Something mysterious and amazing

      Goes on behind and through faces:

      They mask and conceal but can also reveal

      Multiple layers of one person’s being.

      We read that “the Lord used to speak to Moses

      “Moses didn’t know that the skin of his face shone

      The people were then afraid to come near him.

      But Moses reassured them with his voice,

      And put a veil on his face until he went in

      The power of deep human encounter

      Lies in its transparent revelation

      Of Divine Presence at the heart of us all,

      Which we long for yet can barely sustain.

      We approach each other with various rituals,

      And go about our respective daily lives,