God’s Fingerprint
I just wrote a beautiful blog and it got deleted somehow in the publishing process. IT was a good one, but this one made me cry…
It talked about everyone being God’s fingerprint, a unique design of many different lines that make up a whole organism…one that is capable of so much hate, evil, and violence as well as capable of incredible love, awesome kindness, and perfect companionship together walking this road of life…hand in hand.
We are God’s hands, and the marks we leave have fingerprints on them. What is your fingerprint? Is it one found on a crime scene or is it one left on the hand of someone in need who now is not in need, is it on a building you helped create, is it on a friend or a loved one showing them how much you care…
I posted a couple of pictures too. One is a hand holding a thirty day key tag given for lengths of clean time. The other is my family. Both are connected.
I talked about meditation, and how it can open up an avenue that is dark, scary, and painful to walk down. That is why we do not go alone. Never alone, because if we are ready then we walk alongside God, a power greater, a spirit that we can understand as a power that helps us live better lives…holding hands as you shake, cry, scream, try to run away, shake, and face the past.
I just turned onto that avenue of pain. I meditated and watched my easy deep breaths turn shaky and quivering, as if a flood was about to crash through a levy and the only thing holding it back was my attention. As soon as I turned my attention inward it broke and the flood washed over me and it felt like drowning.
I had no breath at one point, I just had my mouth open and my eyes closed, just existing in the painful reflections of what has happened in my life and to others around me.
I can hear God saying: Oh Sean, it is okay my child, my good son, you have returned, you have come home, it is going to be okay, that’s it, let it go, just let go…
I let go…
By letting go I hold on to what I have in my life today. The pain of holding on to the pictures of the past that are better left covered and in the attic away from sight is too much. The pictures are of faces of God, you and me, my family, loved ones, friends, people I never even met but hurt just the same…the same I did to all of them I did to God…
I love you God…and there is no loneliness greater than the thought of never being able to be forgiven…no greater hell than that thought of being alone with no one to help or care or love me because of what I had done…How could I do that and say “I love you God?”
That is when I got the inspiration to write this…or what I just spent a hour writing but got deleted…but this sounds better, less sappyness! Writing is therapy, and writing this to the world is my way of making amends, of trying to repair the damage, the start of my journey through this avenue I have to walk down to get to the other side.
“God take me out of this place it hurts in here, You know my tears hit the page and make the words appear…
Lord I’m here all alone I got no where to go and no one else to turn to…
SO I turn to the drugs, booze, and slowly rot as my family and loved ones fall on their knees praying for me to stop…
With tears in my eyes I look to the sky and I wait for you, yes I wait for you.”
My fingerprint has scarred people, made them bleed fear, hate, anger, disgust, disappointment, misunderstanding, resentment, and left evidence for someone to follow in order to find me and stop me.
My fingerprint has helped people, loved people, been pressed against the heart of loved ones, lifted up friends, and left for those who are in need. This is God’s fingerprint.
