[Magdalen] Transformations

[Marilyn Cepeda]

Thank you Jim.

On Fri, Apr 21, 2017 at 2:50 PM Roger Stokes <roger.stokes65 at btinternet.com>
wrote:

> Jim,
>
> Expressing our emotions is sometimes very hard for a man to do. I
> certainly know that applies to me. Thank you for sharing and for the
> fact that you are now starting on the next phase of your life with
> greater peace and assurance of God's presence in, with and through you.
>
> Roger
> On 21/04/2017 18:13, James Handsfield wrote:
> > Dear friends,
> >
> > It’s time, I think, to share something with you about myself.  Maybe you
> can consider it a new addendum to my bio.
> >
> > I have been seeing my life over the past three or so years as a time of
> newness.  The newness of Marcy’s ALS, the newness of each time Marcy needed
> help for another activity, the newness of my learning to be a caregiver,
> the newness of my acknowledgment of my alcoholism, the newness brought by
> Marcy’s death, the newness of my grief, the newness of turning 70 last
> October, the newness of learning again to live in greater solitude, my
> reaffirmation by +Rob Wright.  In late January, something finally came to
> me that I’ve known intellectually for year - when I think or talk of God, I
> have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.  That’s a good thing,
> because if I understood God, it would be a god of my own intellect and
> imagination; if I can imagine god, I can control that god.
> >
> > With the guidance of my spiritual director, I went on silent, directed
> retreat in Holy Week (three nights - Monday - Wednesday) at Green Bough
> House of Prayer near Dublin, GA.  It was a time like none other in my life.
> >
> > I’ve never found the Labyrinth to be a useful tool in my spirituality
> until this retreat.  When I first met with Fay, the spiritual director of
> Green Bough, on Tuesday morning, I really unloaded a virtual shotgun of
> questions and wonderings.  We talked of Marcy’s death.  I also told her
> that I’ve loved three women in my life:  Lynn, Linda, and Marcy.  I married
> Marcy, as you know.
> >
> > Lynn was my beloved in my first year in college at the American College
> of Switzerland.  We were, obviously, quite young, but I loved her dearly
> and she loved me.  She became ill toward the end of the second semester and
> went home for treatment.  I saw her once again in July in DC for my
> brother’s wedding to his first wife.  After that, we lost contact.  Losing
> contact is my doing - I was simply to lazy and, perhaps, immature to keep
> in touch.  Thirty years later (about), she located me through an internet
> search and called me.  She told me many things:  that her father told her
> that I’d been drafted into the Army and killed in Vietnam (I suppose he was
> just trying to protect her);  and she told me she miscarried my child.  I
> discovered that there was a hole in my heart I was unaware of.  She wanted
> to name the child after me, but didn’t know the fetus’ sex.  I suggested
> Jamie as it could be used for either boy or girl.  Jamie would be in her
> (for some reason I sense she’s female) early 50s.
> >
> > Five years later when I’d gone back to school at San Diego State
> University, I met Linda.  We also fell in love.  We were together two
> years, and along the way, she told me she was pregnant.  Through my
> mother’s influence, Linda aborted the pregnancy - twin boys.
> >
> > Marcy never knew about Lynn or Linda (she knew Lynn was a college
> girlfriend but nothing more), and she never knew about the children.  Fay
> suggested that I write to Marcy (something my sponsor had already
> suggested) and tell her everything, which I did.  I read her that letter on
> Holy Saturday between the Good Friday liturgy and the Easter Vigil.  Fay
> also suggested I name the boys, and after a little thought, I named them
> Ellis and Hugh after Linda’s and my father respectively.  Ellis and Hugh
> would be in their mid to late 40s.  After writing to Marcy, I spoke with
> the three children (now adults) and finally felt the full grief of what I
> had done.  By the way, I think my over dependence on my mother was probably
> the reason Linda and I separated.  I know nothing of Linda’s whereabouts;
> I’m in FB contact with Lynn and her daughter.
> >
> > In the middle of doing that, I approached the Labyrinth with an intent
> that walking it would be a sacramental of the pilgrimage of Discovery that
> is the rest of my life.  I took several photos with my iPhone that has
> become my journal of it.  I took a picture of everything that caught my eye
> - most of it quite plain, but lovely.  The Labyrinth at Green Bough is a
> path cleared in the natural vegetation of that part of Georgia.  It’s a
> living Labyrinth.  As I walked in, I felt closer and closer to all of
> Creation from the smallest subatomic particle (Higg’s boson?) to the
> farthest reaches of the galaxy and whatever science may discover in the
> future.  All of this is really distilled down from the newness of my life.
> When I reached the center, I rested on the chair, and came to realize that,
> in the pilgrimage that is the rest of my life, I desire to give my self
> completely to God - to empty myself back to God.  I know, of course, that I
> will do so imperfectly if I’ll be able to do that at all.
> >
> > It was clear to me that all of Creation is of the Cosmic Christ; that
> God has so completely emptied God’s own Self into it that when I try to see
> God, there’s nothing left, and that God continues giving God’s self through
> eternity.  And I came to understand that I’m a part of it.  The part of God
> that is in me enables me to see and recognize all of this, and enables me
> to desire and love all of it.  The love that is God in me enables my love
> for all of you.  And I find myself smack in the middle of this Trinity,
> fully a part of it.  Even when I die, my mortal self will decay and return
> to the elements and I will continue as part of Creation forever.  I also
> decided to deal with an inkling that has been rattling around for quite
> some time that I may have the charisms for ordained ministry.  I realized
> that contemplating it on my own would never provide an answer, so I
> determined to offer my self to the Church for discernment.  I have no idea
> how that will turn out, but however it turns out, I will learn something of
> myself.  The only urgency is that I’m 70 years old, but I’m at peace about
> it.
> >
> > When I met with Fay that afternoon, she rejoiced in my discovery.  She
> gave me a verse of Scripture that has become a mantra to me:  Luke 12:32 -
> “It is God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  As I repeat it, I
> stress different words:  It is GOD’s good pleasure . . . ; It is God’s GOOD
> pleasure. . . ;  It is God’s good PLEASURE . . . ; etc.  As I repeat that I
> find myself internally falling to my knees (I’d do it actually, but I’m not
> sure I’d be able to get up again).  Sometimes I replace ‘you’ with ‘me’.
> >
> > As I said, the retreat was silent, but we broke silence after dinner
> that day and had some time so socialize with the staff and other
> retreatants.  What a joy to get to know them a little.
> >
> > Thursday before I left, I walked the Labyrinth one more time.  This
> time, while praying in the center, I found my answer to Everything:  Amen.
> To fully accept everything that is a part of Creation and the Giving and
> the Loving.  Good and bad, it’s all a part of Creation.  That doesn’t mean
> we can’t do something about it, but even the most evil has to be accepted
> as a distortion of God’s will for Creation, usually by our human desire for
> things over relationships.
> >
> > So I returned home changed, I hope for the better.  Maundy Thursday
> liturgy had a newness about it with my thought that God is in everything in
> Creation, so the ritual of the Eucharist is, in a way, the recognition of
> what already exists.  And the Good Friday liturgy became a liturgy of
> Completeness - the Completeness of Jesus human life, the Completeness of
> salvation, the Completeness that Creation continues.  I think I also
> realized at that liturgy that my retreat had started my learning how to
> die.  I don’t mean that in any morbid sense and I’m not going to rush the
> issue.  But when I die, it will be the completeness of my mortal life, and
> my body will decay and return to the elements of the earth and remain a
> part of Creation.  I don’t know if I will retain sentience, but that’s by
> business.
> >
> > On Saturday, when I read my letter to Marcy and offered my amends to
> her, I understood that she is now in Love, along with Jamie, Ellis, and
> Hugh.  My grief has been transformed.  I still miss Marcy and the children,
> but they know I love them all, and I know they love me.
> >
> > Easter Vigil was a reminder that God’s self emptying persists in all
> Creation and in all humanity.  We are not on the outside looking in to the
> Trinity.  We are smack in the middle of the Trinity, surrounded by God’s
> Self giving; through, with, and in the Christ that is all Creation, and
> with the flame burning inside that is the Holy Spirit.
> >
> > I met with Chad on Wednesday, and we started the conversation of
> discernment.  I told him about all the above.  A few weeks ago, he asked if
> I was ready to resume a more active role in the life of St. Bede’s and I
> said yes.  I told him again on Wednesday that I meant it.  So now I will
> rejoin the rotation of lectors and Eucharistic minister, Tomorrow I’m going
> to help turn over the vegetable gardens at St. Bede’s that will provide
> produce for the NET Pantry, I will try to march for science as part of
> Earth Day tomorrow as well.
> >
> > If you’ve lasted this long, thank you for reading.  I am a man at Peace
> and excitedly looking forward to wherever this pilgrimage that is the rest
> of my life will take me.
> >
> >
> > Alleluia!  Christ is risen!
> >
> > James Handsfield
> > jhandsfield at att.net
> >
> >
>
>
> --
Marilyn (Owens, Palmero) Cepeda