Maine Is God's Country
I just spent 5 days in Maine. I had agonized over this trip for a myriad of reasons, my life changed dramatically when I lived in Maine, three short years felt like 40 spent in the desert. In hindsight, the signs were there to indicate the challenge Maine would present to me, the very day I began the move to Maine was also the same day my son had a near fatal car wreck.
During my first year in Maine, my son passed away, as an unseen pedestrian on a lonely South Carolina road and I nearly died due to a botched surgery, spending months in recovery. My next year in Maine I spent in a strange sense of discovery and experienced many mystical-like revelations. I couldn’t decide if those revelations were due to my nearly dying, the loss of my son, Steven or the magical and magnetic quality of the earth in that part of the world. The third year was a hard year of standing up for myself, fighting for a way to hang on and ended in exhaustion and escape from Maine.
Journeying up the east coast to face memories of the all the pain and struggle was daunting, but as my Momma always suggests, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and pushed myself forward. The weather couldn’t have been nicer, the flowers were still blooming, the grass was green and the trees were just making their dramatic change. Upon arrival we discovered that we had been double booked at our cabin on Old Orchard Beach, but the owner’s sister opened up her bed and breakfast to Chris and I and as it was off-season, we had the place to ourselves. The beach was a block away and the evenings were warm enough to spend next to the water with just a jacket.
Although we were there for serious matters, confronting the surgeon, the experts and attending an all day medical malpractice hearing, we did have some time to see old friends and eat some seafood. And I also had time to deal with some of my personal demons. When I left Maine over two years ago I was quite angry, it felt like when I stepped into the state, I also stepped into my own personal hell and when I left, I left with hard feelings.
What has dawned on me is that although I hated Maine, Maine is the place that I strengthened my commitment to God and my understanding of the path of Jesus. I think that to understand Christ we have to walk the path of Christ, the good and the bad, the highs and the lows and sometimes we must surrender to God’s will, be it what we choose or simply what is.
I also realized on this trip that we cannot give God ultimatums, we can’t say if you don’t do what I want, then I will no longer believe, we have to trust that what God allows in our lives is only to make us stronger and we must accept the decisions with grace. Surrender is often painted as a bad thing in our society, but many times, upon facing a personal challenge, it is the only thing that brings peace.
I have yet to hear the outcome of my hearing, I do not know what the panel has decided, but I do know that even if I have to accept that what was done to me is okay in the eyes of the law, I trust that I am on the right path. I know that I am blessed, as I have always been blessed and my trust in the righteousness and goodness of God will not be swayed. Although I was raised in the Bible Belt and the South is said to be God’s country, I have met some of the gentlest and sweetest spirits I have ever known in Maine. And in Maine I truly understood what the suffering of Jesus meant to the world and to me, personally.
So as I sit here, tired, but no longer scared and anxious I would like to say hello and thank you to a few folks that showed me that sometimes you can go home again … Patrick, Matt, Gayle, Lincoln, Lee, Mike, Steve and The Red Sox.
Love and Light Folks and always remember that Life Is Good