Monika Basile's Blog: Confessions of a Bleeding Heart - Posts Tagged "faith"
Tattoos and Other Tales
Hey, Mom and Dad? Now don’t get mad but…I got a tattoo.
I know. I know. I know. I’m too old for this and it’s permanent and I didn’t even get it in a truly hidden place. It’s on my leg and I can’t erase it. It was a gift and it actually reminds me of other gifts. So bare with me as I share the meaning—and it really means a whole lot if you see the bigger picture…
These past few years have been an absolute hell for too many reasons—so many reasons. I have been angry a lot—angry at life and the way everything seems to be turning out and challenging me at every turn, angry that there is this amount of hurt in one woman’s life and angry at God. I felt like he had taken his eyes off me to allow me to go through the tragedies I have had to endure. I even said it out loud one day when I was watching the sparrows flit around the patio at the group home. Sitting there in the midst of a heart break, I whispered those words out loud, “Your eye is on the sparrow God, but surely you have taken them off me. You have forgotten me.”
And then God decided to surprise me and show me otherwise.
I am not sure exactly when it started. I only know when I noticed and decided something strange was going on. I noticed sparrows suddenly everywhere when I had not noticed them before. Last summer, sitting on my steps, gazing at my asphalt garden I noticed hundreds of sparrows in the parking lot making weird formations. They flew from wire, to building and then to the top of my car. Back and forth and back and forth and it was one of the oddest things I had ever seen. I thought it was isolated. It wasn’t.
Even the girls commented on the strangeness when we sat on those rusted metal steps on and off all this summer and fall. As long as we sat there, the sparrows were there and they were constantly swarming where there are no trees or grass or bushes.
One night, I was taking my youngest daughter to a friend’s. We got in the car and something flew past her head tangling in her hair and then into the back of the station wagon. She screamed in near hysteria thinking it was a bat. I opened the hatch and to my surprise a sparrow flew out.
At the group home, the sparrows suddenly seemed to swarm the bushes and patio. Yes, we feed the birds there. We have always fed the birds and wild life. But the sparrows gathered in droves and would roll in the dirt and burrow. In all the years I have been there, there never has been such an abundance of them. The client’s would laugh and laugh but I began to think that maybe someone was trying to tell me something.
A few days after the sparrow got in my car, I was sitting in the car with my cousin. I was telling her about the odd sparrow incidents. I laughed kind of half-heartedly but I finally admitted, “You know, I keep thinking all these sparrows hanging around have something to do with me. I kept telling God he took his eyes off me.”
Suddenly, I noticed a sparrow sitting in a bush nearby. It appeared to be looking right at me. Again I laughed and said, “I must be nuts because I swear that damn bird is staring right at me…”
My cousin said, “Monika, it is. That is freaky!”
Just then, that little sparrow hopped off the branch of the bush, and hopped over to my car and then tried to fly in the car window where I was sitting. I got the window up before it got inside.
I shouted out then, “Okay! Okay already! You’re looking at me. I get it!” and I did get it. I do get it.
His eye is on the sparrow; surely his eye is on me. It’s a permanent situation—like my tattoo.
I won’t ever forget that again.
Monika M. Basile
I know. I know. I know. I’m too old for this and it’s permanent and I didn’t even get it in a truly hidden place. It’s on my leg and I can’t erase it. It was a gift and it actually reminds me of other gifts. So bare with me as I share the meaning—and it really means a whole lot if you see the bigger picture…
These past few years have been an absolute hell for too many reasons—so many reasons. I have been angry a lot—angry at life and the way everything seems to be turning out and challenging me at every turn, angry that there is this amount of hurt in one woman’s life and angry at God. I felt like he had taken his eyes off me to allow me to go through the tragedies I have had to endure. I even said it out loud one day when I was watching the sparrows flit around the patio at the group home. Sitting there in the midst of a heart break, I whispered those words out loud, “Your eye is on the sparrow God, but surely you have taken them off me. You have forgotten me.”
And then God decided to surprise me and show me otherwise.
I am not sure exactly when it started. I only know when I noticed and decided something strange was going on. I noticed sparrows suddenly everywhere when I had not noticed them before. Last summer, sitting on my steps, gazing at my asphalt garden I noticed hundreds of sparrows in the parking lot making weird formations. They flew from wire, to building and then to the top of my car. Back and forth and back and forth and it was one of the oddest things I had ever seen. I thought it was isolated. It wasn’t.
Even the girls commented on the strangeness when we sat on those rusted metal steps on and off all this summer and fall. As long as we sat there, the sparrows were there and they were constantly swarming where there are no trees or grass or bushes.
One night, I was taking my youngest daughter to a friend’s. We got in the car and something flew past her head tangling in her hair and then into the back of the station wagon. She screamed in near hysteria thinking it was a bat. I opened the hatch and to my surprise a sparrow flew out.
At the group home, the sparrows suddenly seemed to swarm the bushes and patio. Yes, we feed the birds there. We have always fed the birds and wild life. But the sparrows gathered in droves and would roll in the dirt and burrow. In all the years I have been there, there never has been such an abundance of them. The client’s would laugh and laugh but I began to think that maybe someone was trying to tell me something.
A few days after the sparrow got in my car, I was sitting in the car with my cousin. I was telling her about the odd sparrow incidents. I laughed kind of half-heartedly but I finally admitted, “You know, I keep thinking all these sparrows hanging around have something to do with me. I kept telling God he took his eyes off me.”
Suddenly, I noticed a sparrow sitting in a bush nearby. It appeared to be looking right at me. Again I laughed and said, “I must be nuts because I swear that damn bird is staring right at me…”
My cousin said, “Monika, it is. That is freaky!”
Just then, that little sparrow hopped off the branch of the bush, and hopped over to my car and then tried to fly in the car window where I was sitting. I got the window up before it got inside.
I shouted out then, “Okay! Okay already! You’re looking at me. I get it!” and I did get it. I do get it.
His eye is on the sparrow; surely his eye is on me. It’s a permanent situation—like my tattoo.
I won’t ever forget that again.
Monika M. Basile
For the Love of God
There is one deal breaker that I will never budge on. To me, it is the most important one. It is the one instance that no matter how much I like a man, adore a man or am attracted, I will not change my mind. I can’t compromise here and some may see me as a fool.
He must believe in God.
I don’t care if someone has religion or even what religion they follow. I don’t care if they call God a Higher Power, Allah, Supreme Being, Her, Him or even Fred. I just need to have the assurance that he will not knock my faith or make fun of me for having it. I would not do that to anyone, non-believer or believer. I simply want to know, that when the odd things that happen in my life happen—my future love will understand that I will see God somewhere in that picture.
I think that to debate my faith with one of the ones who is to love me—who I am to love, is exhausting. If you don’t believe at all in the existence of a God, then you will never be able to “get” me, to understand me or to truly accept the secret aspects of my life. It is at the core of who I am. My faith is. It has always been. It isn’t something that I want to change however much questioning I may do. And it is not my intention to change anyone's thinking either.
I don’t practice any particular religion though I do hold certain religious beliefs. I practice at living since I don’t seem to be a natural at it. I practice kindness, and compassion. I practice patience and empathy. I even practice being angry and speaking my mind without destroying the people around me. I have to practice these things all the time due to me being human.
I am not perfect in the least. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have any idea what I am actually doing. I only know that whatever is happening, wherever I may be going to or going through, I am not doing it alone or with an internal GPS. I’ve always been bad at directions so I make a lot of detours. I stumble and fall. I rage against God’s choices when I realize where he may be leading is where I don’t feel like going, or what I am being pulled from is what I want to have. Yet, I know with such assurance it is all leading up to something whether it is something big or small.
I am a believer in miracles. I know love is a miracle. Life is a miracle. To have either as well as both is a blessing. It isn’t a right or a guarantee to have either. I want the one who I will share my life with to know that it will be a miracle to find each other at all. That it is an intricate dance and design as each person is brought into our lives, brought out of our lives, or actually stays to dance the final waltz. I would like the man who shares my life to find me a blessing to his life as much as I will know he is one to mine.
Monika M. Basile
He must believe in God.
I don’t care if someone has religion or even what religion they follow. I don’t care if they call God a Higher Power, Allah, Supreme Being, Her, Him or even Fred. I just need to have the assurance that he will not knock my faith or make fun of me for having it. I would not do that to anyone, non-believer or believer. I simply want to know, that when the odd things that happen in my life happen—my future love will understand that I will see God somewhere in that picture.
I think that to debate my faith with one of the ones who is to love me—who I am to love, is exhausting. If you don’t believe at all in the existence of a God, then you will never be able to “get” me, to understand me or to truly accept the secret aspects of my life. It is at the core of who I am. My faith is. It has always been. It isn’t something that I want to change however much questioning I may do. And it is not my intention to change anyone's thinking either.
I don’t practice any particular religion though I do hold certain religious beliefs. I practice at living since I don’t seem to be a natural at it. I practice kindness, and compassion. I practice patience and empathy. I even practice being angry and speaking my mind without destroying the people around me. I have to practice these things all the time due to me being human.
I am not perfect in the least. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have any idea what I am actually doing. I only know that whatever is happening, wherever I may be going to or going through, I am not doing it alone or with an internal GPS. I’ve always been bad at directions so I make a lot of detours. I stumble and fall. I rage against God’s choices when I realize where he may be leading is where I don’t feel like going, or what I am being pulled from is what I want to have. Yet, I know with such assurance it is all leading up to something whether it is something big or small.
I am a believer in miracles. I know love is a miracle. Life is a miracle. To have either as well as both is a blessing. It isn’t a right or a guarantee to have either. I want the one who I will share my life with to know that it will be a miracle to find each other at all. That it is an intricate dance and design as each person is brought into our lives, brought out of our lives, or actually stays to dance the final waltz. I would like the man who shares my life to find me a blessing to his life as much as I will know he is one to mine.
Monika M. Basile
