Perhaps He will whisper the same story to your
own regrets.

<gentle hugs>  Caryn


**************************

When You Regret SRS

Dear S.:

<<<long hugs>>>

You sound very hurt and very angry.  And that is
ok.  I think one of the reasons for the group
being here, is so that we can vent our anger.

Dr. Kubler-Ross developed her theory on grief
by studying the psychological grappling done by
the terminally ill.  Anger is a normal part of grief.  
So is bargaining.  So is depression.  So is
acceptance.  Your anger proves that you are
human, hon.  Just like all of us here in the family
of TG-C.

Sometimes, I think that grief comes in bite-sized
pieces; sometimes, it hits all at once.  Sometimes
it comes a bit too big to handle alone.  When I
wrote "The sound of the lock turning", it was
because I was tossed into a grief/mourning
cycle, as it were.  It seems that the grief cycle
caught me way off guard during December
2006.  I vented to the group as well within that
writing.  It is ok to vent at any time.

I have written all the above so that you
understand many of us here, within the family of
TG-C, hear your pain.  

We are not ignoring you.  

We are not telling you to be silent.  

You are part of our family, and we give you all
our love.

<<<long pause>>>

<<<change of thoughts>>>


I imagine that her hair was straight and long and
deep brown.  And that she was shaking in the
blanket they threw upon her.  The knives they
put to her back hurt.  One twisted her arm
behind her back.  They told her lover to leave.  
She was alone with violent men.  All because of
love?

I can't imagine her horror as they pulled her out
of the bedroom, drug her through her home,
and into the street.  The morning sun cut into
her eyes like edges of steel on flesh.  The cold
made her clutch the blanket closer.  When she
realized the women she knew could see her --
her face burned red -- and then she only stared
at the ground.  She watched her un-sandaled
bare feet move one after the other.  She knew
the violent men would kill her.  All because of
love?

The violent men pushed her towards a man
sitting upon the ground.  She thought 'He is
young to be a village elder'.  And before the
thought was done, the men pushed her to the
ground.  She fell weeping, her knees in dust, her
hands clutching dirt, and the blanket barely
covering her nakedness.  All this because of love?

"Master!" one of the men shouted.  "We caught
this woman in the very act of adultery!"  He
paused.  He waited.  He knew how to draw a
crowd.  And yes, the number of feet surrounding
the 'Master' quickly multiplied.  She wanted to
shout, 'it was not adultery!  It was love!'  But no
words passed through her throat swollen with
fear.  All this because of love?

The man shouted, "MOSES....says... we must
STONE such a sinner!  What... do... YOU... say?"  
The theatrics made it obvious that he had
planned those statements days before.  She
realized that this all had all been a trap!  Her
husband was on a long journey!  She was dying
from lack of love!  She desperately was driven to
take a lover!  Didn't they understand?  Wouldn't
they at least try to understand?  All this because
of love?

The young man, the one they called 'Master',
stood up.  She could see his sandaled feet
through her hair strands, now covered with dirt
and wet with tears.  She heard the young Man
call out, "Let the one that has no sin throw the
first stone."  And then, she watched the Master
sit back down.  Through eyes that burned from
tears, she watched him trace a stick upon the
dirt.  

'Stoned...' she thought.  'Here?... Now?... Not
even a trial?....All because of love'?

But she stayed there, on all fours, bracing and
fearing the hit of the first rock.  And with her
eyes, she watched the one they called 'Master'
continuing to trace patterns with a stick upon
the dirt.

Time passed.  So slow.  She heard the murmurs
of the crowd.  She heard the call of a raven,
flying well above her bent head.  And then, she
heard it... the sound of feet... shuffling in the
dust... and turning... and walking away from
her.  The murmurs of the crowd grew less and
less.  Only the sound of the morning's wind could
now be heard.

"Woman."  said the Master in a soft voice.  

She looked up for the first time.  No violent man
was near the Master.  Most of the crowd had
departed.  She clutched the blanket closely
about her, and sat back upon her knees.  She
licked her parched lips, but avoided looking at
the Master's eyes.

"Is there any man here that condemns you?"  
asked the same soft voice.

She replied, "No one, Sir."

"Neither do I condemn you." replied the young
Master.  But the way in which He said those
words were as if he were the King of all men,
not their follower.  Those words were said as if
He - the supreme court of the land - had forced
a lower court to abandon its case.

"Go." He softly said.  "Sin no more."

And the woman rose, and left that dusty area.  
She walked to her home, and into her bedroom.  
She curled up on the bed, softly weeping from all
the trauma of the day.  She kept whispering, 'it
was all because of love... it was all because of
love....'

<<< sighs>>>


Dear S., some say that the passage of the
'woman taken in adultery' is not in the oldest
manuscripts.  Yet, the story is in keeping with
Jesus' non-condemnation of the Roman
centurion, the lepers, the tax collectors, the
woman that anointed Him with perfume, and on
and on.  

Some say she was a prostitute, even though she
was accused of 'adultery' and not prostitution.  
Others think she was married, and her husband
on a long journey.  In either case:

    -  I've heard you say clearly that you have
    'sinned' by the act of SRS.  The woman had
    clearly sinned by the act of adultery.

    -  I think you've implied that you were
    driven towards SRS by deep forces.  The
    woman was most likely driven by love -- one
    of the deepest forces within woman-kind.

    -  I think you've implied that you deserve
    condemnation.  The woman deserved
    condemnation plus death.  

    -  Your letter shows that your heart is
    before Christ... just as the woman thrown
    down before our Master.

    -  But you won't find condemnation from
    the lips of Christ.  The woman that
    deserved much worse than you, could not
    find condemnation from His lips.

We do not know the follow-on story of the
woman, and how she overcame the public
disgrace, the loss of friends, or her shattered
reputation.  We don't know how she faced the
violent men later; or how the village responded
to the realization that it had all been a trap set
for Jesus. We simply do not know.  It must have
been difficult for her, at best.

I think that learning to walk within His mercy; to
grieve within His mercy; and to celebrate within
His mercy are one of the most difficult of all
balances to achieve.

But His mercy endures forever; and He will
never condemn you.

Weep.  Vent in anger.  And then hear His
comfort as He whispers in your ears, "I will
never condemn you for any of your choices... all
because of love."

Much love in Christ always and unconditionally;

Caryn

*****





(c) Copyright Caryn LeMur 2007
The Collection of Short Works,
Letters, and Poems
When You Regret SRS
She wrote that she regretted her
sexual reassignment surgery
(SRS).

She had anger.  She had pain.  
She vented in her letter to the
family of TG-C.

None of us, I think, blame her.  
Who has not married, and had
regrets?  Who has not divorced,
and had regrets?  Who has not
had their first, second, or third
child and had regrets?

Who has not moved across
country or changed careers or
made other major decisions
without sensing the strong pulling
questions of 'regret'?

I empathize with those that have
been in war or had an abortion
and felt the deep call of regret....

We are all so very human.

And so, I wrote to help share her
burden.  I think I wrote good solid
thoughts.  But then, there was a
long pause, and a story came into
my mind.

Perhaps it was the Wind
whispering a sound in my ear so
that S. would be comforted.
In Deepest Sympathy -
Poetry for those that grieve
Building Faith, Hope, & Love -
Stories and Writings
A Cup Of Cold Water -
Letters For The Thirsty
A Pause In The Forest -
Poetry for thoughtful moments