Living Behind the Veil

I'm often asked what I wear in Afghanistan and what it's like to wear a veil. It's freedom. Freedom to have a bad hair day, freedom to arrange my chadar to conceal the curve of my breasts and backside, freedom to not be an expatriate for a little while. It means freedom to hide even on the street from the Afghan men's eyes which seem to strip me naked.
When I relax my shoulders and walk less purposefully, less confidently, my eyes downcast and covered by sunglasses, I pass for an Afghan woman. I hear the men whisper in Dari, "Is she a foreigner or local woman?" I chuckle but am silent. On the street, I'm also a free target....freely exposed to groping, sexual innuendos whispered to me as a man bicycles by, free to have stones thrown at me, freely seen as no one's wife, daughter, sister, mother, friend, or boss. I step inside my gate, and remove my chapan and chadar. Now I'm someone's boss, motherhood returns to me as little steps run to greet me, and I receive a kiss from my adoring husband. Now I'm free to his loving and gentle eyes which know and enjoy my curves, free to once again be under the protective umbrella of being a wife, mother, friend, colleague, boss, niece, sister, daughter, woman.

Saturday, February 23, 2019

Embracing the Gift of Grief



Embracing the Gift of Grief (1) 

What is it to wrap my arms and heart around grief?
What is it to accept ongoing pain?
What is it to not get cold-hearted?

Unhealed.
Unexpectedly ripped open,
Unrelieved.

Suffering old losses, fresh and new.
Anguish...that hole in my heart
Incessant presence.

Risk and Grief
Risk and Lament
Intertwined

Complaint
Loss
Appeal

Directed to a God who
Seems silent
Distant.

Desolation
Out-of-control
Where is He?

Those who know little of lament and grief (2)
Of death breathing down my neck daily
Don't find comfort Good Friday

Your Presence felt more
Good Friday than
Easter Sunday.

Who named it Good (Friday)?
It was the day of your suffering and death
How long that day has lasted for your people

The taste of hope fading
bitter
dry
acidic
gasping for air yet
finally peace in acceptance

No longer meaningless words
Hope arising from deep grief
An instructed hope. 

Lament and grief as a form of resistance
The status-quo is never acceptable.
Grief - a way of standing in the midst of suffering

Let me stand with my brothers and sisters who have stood in the tragic gap. (3)
Let me stand along side those suffering by being with not doing for or to. (ibid 1)
Let me enter Your grief and thereby hope for a longed for future.


"The strange interconnection between lament and martyrdom [that highlights] the strange hope that the death of the innocent offers to Christians in their struggle for peace..." (4)

"There are things that can be seen only with eyes that have cried." (5)

I see, Lord. Help me to always see, even if it means filled with grief, eyes filled with seeing horror.


 Sources: 
1. Paper presented by Cathy Ross at Women in Missiology June 6, 2018. "Lament and Hope."
2. Brueggemann, W., "The Costly Loss of Lament." Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, 11, no. 36.
3. Parker J. Palmer http://www.couragerenewal.org/the-tragic-gap
4. Katongole, E., Born from Lament, The Theology and Politics of Hope in Africa, 2017.
5. Archbishop of Bukavu, Christopher Munzihirwa, martyred, 1996.



Posted by at
Labels:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to comment related to this post or ask additional questions. All comments require moderation. I do not post sales or non-related links.

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)