Tag Archives: god

Love Letter Fest

Friends, welcome to my Valentine’s Event. A “Dear ?” love letter which you have written (whether sweet, sarcastic, or saucy) and will post your links below in the comment section so we all can have grieve, giggle, or gasp!  I will admit. When this idea jumped into my brain, I wasn’t daunted.  HOWEVER, as I sit here about to type my own letter, I’m overwhelmed, a tad bit intimidated, and wondering what on earth I was thinking when I started this.  Those of you who know me well are aware of my stubborn perseverance.  Hence, onward.  Enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day.  Not the commercialized hype but the everyday love we hold in our hearts.


Dear _______,

Many of you have directly or indirectly shaped me into the woman I am today.  I wouldn’t be Pamela without you.  Some of you have taken my heart down spiraling staircases into dank, dark basements where I suffered pain, wrenching hurt, abandonment.

A couple of you have led me through enchanted forests where rainbows arched overhead, the grass was soft, the castle walls had crumbled, and we loved as first loves.

Still others have taught me the foundation of love, how love isn’t based on emotions, how it demands action, requires being able to mouth or write two words (I’m sorry), and mean them.  That anger doesn’t necessarily reflect lack of love, although, at times, it may indicate lack of “like” (or sheer frustration).

Another has shown me that no matter how much I get angry, or question, or cry, or vent, He will remain faithful and, even more amazing, love me despite me.

All of the individuals who do not hesitate to pick up the phone to let me know they care, reach out with a card or letter, laugh with me, scream with me, or who hold me when I cry across the miles in a tight, virtual embrace.

Then there are the up close and personals who cling to me, climb me as if I am a tree, and hold on with little arms tightly clasped around my neck.  There are older ones who reach out when I least expect them to, grab my hands, sit close to me on the sofa, or hug me unexpectedly in passing.

There are those of you who have touched me so deeply that even though we are separated by this seemingly vast expanse of the other world you continue to move me, fill me, motivate me, cheer me on, and you are alive to me in my dreams, my memory, my soul.

There might be a person out there on this planet who could, through honest eyes, stir up flames in me once more.  Who, through sincerity, persistence, humor, character, empathy, gentleness, and time, has the capability to evoke in me passions which have yet to be completely drawn out.  He may exist. . .

In the meantime, I love and am so loved.  For all you, hole fillers, and you, hole makers, I thank-you.  It’s been real, raw, and, at times, raucous.  Even though, some days I harbor a few, wee regrets, I wouldn’t change any of it.  I have learned and will continue to learn.  My heart’s love journey (I hope) has, like my parent’s wedding song, “only just begun.”

All my love,

Pamela 

You Found Me

I’m supposed to be resting.  Of course, being on a computer isn’t really resting.  And writing isn’t resting.  I never said I was a compliant patient.  However, I am in bed (that must count for something).  With my laptop.  Writing.  “Stunada” as my Nonnie would have said.  Not in the “out there” sense but in the stubborn, sorta stupid sense (sorry Nonnie). I was recently talking to a good friend late one night.  We’ve both been on this crazy rollercoaster called “Life.”  We’ve had similar experiences, felt the same at times, and, at other moments, diverged.  Our relationship, though, no matter what we are thinking, feeling, or hoping, remains granite solid.  I mentioned a song (by The Fray) on my daughter’s iPod (yes, I borrowed it for a few minutes while outside getting a little vitamin D).  This song asks a lot of questions (yeah, yeah, I know, I can relate), is kinda dark, and, although I’ve heard it at least thirty times, it was the first time I really listened to the words.   I asked my friend if she heard it before (nearly everyone has) and if she knew what the lyrics meant.  I couldn’t identify exactly what touched me about it but I felt it draw me in, put a warm blanket around my shoulders, and nestle a steaming cup of tea in my hands. I didn’t feel alone.  I felt . . . comforted.  Music, as an art form, has that capability (one of the reasons I appreciate it so much). My friend sent me an email with a link to the lyrics as explained by the lead singer and pianist.  I didn’t care that the song was so popular it made it onto various countries’ billboard charts or what TV show used clips of it (even though it’s all true). It spoke to me where I was (where I am). In a place I’ve never been before.  Where, depending on the day, I question God’s existence.  Many before me have been here, many are here now, and many more will visit in the future.  I’m not sure of what my future holds.  It’s okay.  Even in this space, I’m banking that He hasn’t abandoned me.  That He still loves me perfectly (like no other can). That His silence is because, when He does speak again, I will not question that it’s Him.  I will be certain.

Tri Hita Karana

black coral cliffs Pura Luhur Uluwatu

silhouetted seaside against fiery sun

sets  Parhyangan harmony

in motion human to

god

hands conduct the good thing

lips speak the good thing

minds think the good thing

Tri Kaya Parisuda human to

human

earth offering thankfulness

embraces bark branched

arms returns gifts of prosperity

Pelemahan human to

land

Pamela A. Rossow

The Empty Grave

Dear friends:

 Easter morning is a special one.  Not just because it is a beautiful soflo day.  Not because of the Easter basket with my name on it filled with dark chocolate (and yes, I do love chocolate).  It’s more than this.  Goes a little deeper.  For the last few years, there have been many, many days where I have struggled to maintain belief in God.There have been temper tantrums and angry comments directed heavenward.  Numerous questions gone unanswered and instead of replies, silence.  This whole experience has been a new one for me.  Years of faith, grace, and belief preceded these last difficult years…and for those of you yet to experience them, dark nights can stretch into weeks, weeks can stretch into months, and months can stretched into years.  However, I’m not one to lie down and quietly take it for the team.  So, while despair has tried repeatedly to shove its way into heart, I boot it out.  When depression hovers threatening to engulf me, I reach out and grab hold of dear, strong hands that have helped me tread water and won’t let me drown.

In the midst of all this, I have wondered where God is.  If He is omniscient, all powerful, and all loving, how can he allow innocent children to be abused and neglected?  How can He watch as families splinter and fall apart?  How can He permit hundreds of thousands of people to die from lack of food and access to clean water?  Anyone who has known me well is aware of my tendency from early childhood to ask, “why.”  These “whys” have persisted into adulthood and hardly a day passes in which I do not utter that interrogative at least once.  What I do know, with great certainty, is that there are often no good answers.  Life can be a hell of a lot of climbing with very few “reaching the summit” experiences.  In fact, some of us have been camping out in the valley for years.  But, on a morning such as this one, centuries ago, something either incredibly disturbing or astoundingly amazing happened.  There is no gray area.  If Christ isn’t God and He did not rise from the dead as attested to in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, then what a morbid hoax.  If Jesus Christ IS the son of God and He was crucified, died, and rose, then it’s truly mind blowing.  As for me, I’m still in a “dark night era.”  I’ll continue to have days, possibly weeks, maybe even months or years where I do not see the hand of God at work in my life or around me.  Yet, Blaise Pascal is a philosophy friend who spoke a lot of wisdom.

“God is, or He is not.” But to which side shall we incline? Reason can decide nothing here. There is an infinite chaos which separated us. A game is being played at the extremity of this infinite distance where heads or tails will turn up… Which will you choose then? Let us see. Since you must choose, let us see which interests you least. You have two things to lose, the true and the good; and two things to stake, your reason and your will, your knowledge and your happiness; and your nature has two things to shun, error and misery. Your reason is no more shocked in choosing one rather than the other, since you must of necessity choose… But your happiness? Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is… If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.

So, I’m wagering He exists.  That Christ rose from the dead, left the tomb, and revealed his resurrected self to a bunch of women.  Sound crazy?  On some level, yes.  Plausible?  I think so.  Again, what do I have to lose?  Life?  We’re all going to die anyway.  My sanity?  Some people would argue it’s questionable all ready.  So, here’s to celebrating an empty grave.  This is my Easter.  There will be bunnies, baskets, and breaking bread with people I love.  But there’s also contemplation, meditation, and inspiration when I “virtually” peer into that deserted tomb with the women.  And there’s hope.  Lots and lots of it.  So much that it that it couldn’t remain wrapped up in linens.  It had to leave and head out into the world .

Happy Easter to my Christian friends.  And for those of you who are close to my heart and think today is incredibly disturbing, shalom.  And for you who are teetering on the tightrope between belief and disbelief, reach out.  You’ll be surprised at the strength of the hands that will help you.

Sincerely,

Pamela