Pocket Revolutionary

One week ago, I said goodbye to my number one fan. My mom, Kathleen Anne Gabrielle, read every single word I wrote, and she’s the biggest reason that I write today. She encouraged me when I was the scrawny kid with the Tom Clancy novel on the playground and a notebook in his back pocket, and she was my most active commenter when I started blogging.

More than that, though, my mom was my model of a great writer. She spent her whole life wanting to reach people with her words, and she loved the writing freedom that came with the web more than anybody I’ve personally known. She blogged, twittered, and Facebook-ed her way into so many lives this past year, and I know it’s because she reached people with honesty. Anybody can say you should “write with honesty”, but it’s so rare to have a model of what it really means to write from your pain and to truly connect on that deepest, scarred level that we all share.

Because of this slow digression it is easy to catch myself dwelling on all the things I can no longer do or will never do again. A Coleman commercial on television reminds me that my camping days are permanently over. A Six Flags ad reminds me that my last ride on the “Superman” ride three summers ago was my last. Are these laments true? Yes. Honest? Yes. Just? not really (in my eyes) and they are certainly not pure or lovely – and contentment goes right out the door.

I will not find contentment concentrating only on the possibility of my healing but on focusing on those things that are EVERYTHING Philippians 4:8 lists. We cannot cajole anyone into their healing by carelessly quoting Scriptures or platitudes. That is exactly what Job’s friends did and in the end their voices (and I think their ears) were silenced by the booming voice of God who boldly asked Job dozens of rhetorical questions that all had the same answer – God and God alone because He IS Sovereign – period.

How Content I’m Not…  An Honest Confession – Kathleen Gabrielle

Kathleen Anne Gabrielle passed away quickly Tuesday, August 18th, 2009 in her home with her roommate and my wife by her side (and me running to the store to grab her a fan to help her breathing). She wrote many places, but the last place she wrote (with a final posting three days before she passed) was her most devoted project, An Open Heart Journal, which I recommend reading from the beginning. Many of her final posts took her almost a whole day to type (and included actual typos for the first time in her life), but she never quit. I guess that was her final lesson to me.