Day 1092- A Prophet Is Not Without Honor…

Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.”

I do love compliments, yet I’m often embarrassed to say what I think to the person when I get a compliment. I so often feel that they have not gone far enough.- Mark Twain

“So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full” – Jesus

This post has been percolating in my head for a while, and I’m still not sure where I’m going with it. I know these three quotes play into it somehow.  So, I’ll just write and see where it goes.

In the three years since Shayna has passed, I’ve become even more of a stranger in a strange land. I’ve always been the black sheep.  I’ve always been the one that’s a little odd. I’ve been on this spiritual path, in one way or another, since the time I can remember, since I first had language.  When I was first told that I was born in original sin and that God hated me for being what I was, the struggle began to find out who I really am, what the hell I did wrong to end up here, and why I am here. I always felt out of place. I didn’t broadcast it, but as I look back, I did, in a way. This is my third website dedicated to reaching out to share my journey with others. The first two were dedicated to the Christian experience. The first was trying to convince people that Christianity was true. The second was trying to convince people that God loves and will “save” everyone. And, this one, not trying to convince anyone of anything.

As I’m listening to a series on how to use the law of attraction to bring what I want into my life, I’m instructed to write four personal affirmations.  I write them, in pen, in a journal without a filter, without thinking about them. The last of the four that comes to me is that I am putting into action what my entire time existing on this planet has been preparing me to do.

In my experience with Helping Parents Heal having met hundreds if not thousands of parents by now, one thing I’ve observed is many of us seemed to be the black sheep of the families even before our kids transitioned.  I think, on a deep level, we were being prepared for this mission.  And, now, we Shining Light Parents are being gathered together to do the work we came here to do.

How does this relate to the quotes above? The loneliness has intensified in a sense, especially among my relatives and in my own home. While my family has always found me a bit odd, I’m sure they find me even odder now. We have Shayna’s passing in common, but our experience of this singular event is so very different.  How we process it, how we talk about it, how we think about it couldn’t be more different.  I have been on a couple of podcasts, an internet radio program, a YouTube show twice, and I blog almost daily. I’ve been published in a magazine twice.  As far as I know, my mother is the only one in my birth family to have ever watched, listened, or read any of this.  Shayna was featured in a presentation by a nationally famous author and public speaker.  I proudly emailed a link to the performance to my entire family. Only my mother bothered to watch the presentation (after much prompting). I am on staff with The SoulPhone, Greater Reality Living, and am an affiliate leader with Helping Parents Heal running a group of 3,333 people (as of Monday) and no one in my family has ever asked a single question about any of it.  Going to my hometown is hard. Both my brothers and my sister live in the same city as my parents. They do many things without me. I don’t live there. That’s OK.  But, they plan events for times I can’t make it and invite me knowing I can’t come. They know I often won’t come. So, there is justification for that. It’s awkward being with them. And, that’s OK.

What do I want? Do I want people to compliment me for what I do? I certainly don’t do it for the money. Someone thanked me a few days ago. Frankly, people thank me all the time.  But, she said, “I know you don’t want the thanks.”  Uh, excuse me?  Oh yes, I do.  I love the thanks.  I hope that doesn’t mean I don’t get my reward later on Jesus. (j/k). I don’t do it for the thanks. But, I’ll certainly take it.

As this post was bouncing around in my head, I thought of Pop. My grandfather comes through often in my medium readings, to my total surprise at first. Pop was a pastor. He was Apostolic (Pentecostal). My spiritual path for many years could not have seemed more different than Pop’s.  While I was always somewhat attracted to the clergy, I could never accept the theology that would allow me to be a pastor. But, Pop came through in my first reading and said I was on the right path.  He came through just a few weeks ago and said he is proud of what I’m doing. And, the new revelation that came to me this week is he was raised Methodist.  Both of his parents were Methodist ministers. I wonder what they thought when he left his church to become a Pentecostal.  Did he feel estranged?

I’ll close with another anecdote from Jesus’ life.  But, before I do I must say this.  No, I’m not a prophet. And, I certainly don’t think I’m a messiah. It’s just that, even though I’m no longer Christian, the Bible still holds a lot of wisdom that is brought back to me by my guides/angels/whatever.

In Matthew 12, the disciples are telling Jesus that his mothers and brother were waiting for Him outside. We can only assume they expected Him to leave what He was doing and to go to His birth family.

He replied to him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” Pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

I may not get the honor I would like in my own home.  But I have no shortage of brothers and sisters.

 

2 Comments

  • I am awed by even the little bit of your life that I know. And yes, the black sheep here too and isn’t that odd? I look at my family members and wonder how they could possibly have been (seemingly) unaffected by the disasters and damage of the life we shared, and so uninterested in what’s happened to me. If recognizing the insanity of religion was the start of this (I was in second grade, parochial school), the fear that created was the push to look for answers. I’m grateful. Still, it’s hard feeling lonely with the people I’m closest too. Strangers, now become dearest friends, have become family of choice. Thank you for this.

    Reply

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