Speckled Upon a Canvas of Peach

Maybe because I've been to several funerals the past few months, or because of grey October skies, but memories have been swirling in my head. I had a cousin who I grew up with, Missy, who was a childhood favorite. We had some adventures, and we also shared in the complexities of life. I just found something I wrote in a journal shortly after Missy was murdered in 2009. I don't know if I ever shared it before, so here it is.  


It has been some time since I last saw Missy, but that is ok.  It is ok because my memory of her cannot be limited to just the last time I saw her, and especially not just the most recent events.

     We really have to make so many choices in our lifetime.  We each have our very proud moments, like the day when we first see our child smile at us, or when are recognized for an accomplishment.  And we all have those moments in our lifetimes when we just didn’t do the right thing or said something we wish we could take back.  It really wouldn’t be accurate if people remembered us by one event or a few choices that we made.  We all want people to think of us as a whole.  We want people to think of our hearts.  We all want others to see that good inside.  When I look around this room, I see people that have all made so many different choices.  But, we are all so much the same, aren’t we?  Aren’t we all stumbling through?  Aren’t we all trying to make sense of the beautiful mess?  That is what it is… a beautiful mess.  Everyday, I watch the young children I teach grow older.  They are so beautiful, but at the same time they imitate so many ugly things.  Hateful words, violent tempers, fighting, and put-downs.  Children learn these things at the same time as they learn about unconditional love, forgiveness, and how good it feels when their parents tell them they are proud of them.  And I know that all of us wish that we could only learn about the beauty of the world, and not the mess.  But it is a beautiful mess.

     For me, Missy was my freckle-faced cousin.  She was two years apart from me in age, and I remember so many good times as kids.  I think she was as much of a spaz as I was.  She probably spilled as many drinks as I did.  And she had as much of a smirk on her face as I usually did.  Mostly though, when I think of Missy, I remember her freckles.

     I used to have lots of freckles when I was younger.  Like many kids, I had a wide range of feelings about those pigment specks.   But I knew that Missy had freckles too.  In fact, she had more freckles than anyone else I knew.

     Did you know that millions of people spend millions of dollars to get rid of their freckles?  I think we have that mixed up.  I think freckles are like reminders that we should smile more and live more carefree.  Missy did.  Maybe that is why a lot of freckles are on your cheeks.  They are trying to emphasize that big smile.  And we also get lots of freckles on our shoulders.  Maybe we should laugh with our shoulders back and really let it out.  (Like Shaggy from Scooby Doo!) Missy sure did, didn’t she?

     Another thing about freckles is that they are even more obvious in summer.  It is almost like the happier you are, the more you surround yourself with the sunshine, then your freckles sparkle and shine!  When I remember Missy playing with me as a kid, I clearly see millions of bright freckles beaming out of her.

     I’m not too sure about Missy, but my freckles are much less obvious now that I am older.  Maybe I have been getting weighed down by the darkness.  That seems so easy to do, doesn’t it?  It is so easy to focus on everything that is wrong and unjust and unfair.  I just don’t think that is a good representation of Missy’s heart and soul.  Her life truly was more than that.

     Missy, I want all of us to be so unashamed of freckles as you were!  I hope we can honor your life by trying to get as many freckles as I remember you having.  I hope we can weaken the darkness that took your life.  It took your freckles away from us, but it doesn’t have to take all of us.

For Missy, I hope we can balance out this beautiful mess.  For the children, I hope we can promise them we’ll expose them to everything that is still good.  They learn everything from us, so we must push through the urge to despair.

When I remember Missy, her whole life, I will always remember my freckle-faced cousin.

'cause I'm shaking like a leaf

My wife often says that I'm "a feeler". Well, empathy can create quite a messy floor to walk on. There is no shortage of hurt and pain around me, and my heart always wants to gravitate towards it. For sure, this is not an intentional lifestyle. It's not like I'm out to rescue anybody else, although that outlook has trapped me on occasion. But, it is like pulling a truck out of a frozen lake, standing on a thin layer of ice. Whatever heroism inspired me sure didn't make sure there was a real hero in the plot. I don't have any definitive solutions to anybody's problems.

No, I'm the somebody just hoping to get rescued. I'm sinking while pulling others out of the mud.

Days can go by where things make a whole lot of sense. Those are the times when I seem to know what I am doing and the precise reasons why I am doing them. Those days pass with little second guessing. I wouldn't say certainty overwhelms them, but I could go a long time without hitting any paralyzing doubts.

Then there are the others. The song describes it being "so hot inside my soul I swear there must be blister on my heart". This is when things just don't fit, or change comes faster than the time needed to duck and hide from wayward splints.

Yeah, I find myself there much more than I'd prefer.

Tonight, I was walking city streets with my headphones loud enough where I couldn't hear anything else. Facial expressions and mannerisms were my sole clues as to what people were talking about. It made me consider just how vague an understanding I have about so many things. Even in my most passionate and heartfelt actions, I am cloudy.

So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf.