pathway in spring, image by Jill Wellington, on Pixabay
Letting Go, Saying Yes
This New Year, I am reminded of the Bible story of Jesus becoming man and dying
for us. Mary, his Mother, shared in her Son's vision and glory. This is a hard act to follow. Saying yes with joy is against my human nature.
I was in my mid-twenties, employed as a speech pathologist in a residential school
for mentally challenged girls. The school was run by the Daughters of Saint Mary
of Providence, a religious order. The school's staff and residents led sheltered lives.
Living at home, I had limited opportunities to meet men socially.
On my 26th birthday, I was shepherding a group of girls at Mass. I started to cry
as I prayed to understand what life path I should follow.
A voice neither male nor female filled my mind, "Before your next birthday, you will
be married."
I was astonished. "How can this be? I have no relationship with a man."
"Have faith," was the reply.
I wondered if this relationship would bring a child into my life. "Will I have children?"
There was no response. Looking back, I felt a little foolish, but the belief was strong
and direct. I have never forgotten it.
After that day, I allowed myself to be open to other opportunities, to have faith, to be led
by the Spirit. I taught catechism to eighth graders. Joining a community theater group,
I found friends of all ages.
A girlfriend invited me to travel with a singles group to take the train for a long weekend
to visit Toronto. Most of the group were retired, except for my friend and a man in his thirties named Mike. We palled around to see the sights, and Mike became my husband the next October, two weeks before my next birthday.
Other memories have faded from that time, but the incident in the church with the voice remains a vivid memory.
We were married almost ten years. The child I longed for came with my second husband, John. Saying yes was the hardest and most joyful path I could have chosen.
Carol Farnsworth is an artist and writes poems
and short essays on the light side of living with
blindness. Her writings have appeared in The
Avocet, Magnets and Ladders, Plum Tree Tavern,
The Handy Uncapped Pen, and the Blind Perspective.
Carol was born with glaucoma and has experienced decreased vision all her life. She has had no vision
for the last several years. Carol lives with her husband
John. They ride a tandem bike to enjoy nature. Carol
gets her inspiration for her nature poetry from these rides.
July 2024 issue
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