All My Life’s A Circle by: Harry Chapin

All My Life's a Circle
Harry Chapin

(Starts with 2 stanza chorus):

All my life's a circle;
Sunrise and sundown;
Moon rolls thru the nighttime;
Till the daybreak comes around.

All my life's a circle;
But I can't tell you why;
Season's spinning round again;
The years keep rollin' by.

It seems like I've been here before;
I can't remember when;
But I have this funny feeling;
That we'll all be together again.
No straight lines make up my life;
And all my roads have bends;
There's no clear-cut beginnings;
And so far no dead-ends.

     Chorus:

I found you a thousand times;
I guess you done the same;
But then we lose each other;
It's like a children's game;

As I find you here again;
A thought runs through my mind;
Our love is like a circle;
Let's go 'round one more time.

This song depicts what I need to share so effectively.  At 54 years old, my life
should be settled into a comfortable routine.  I should know who I am, what my
strengths and weaknesses are, and what I do and do not possess.  The operative
word being, “should.” I find myself, once more, with one of my children living in
my home. This is challenging me in surprising ways. While I dearly love her, and
am so very grateful for this time together, it is causing me unexpected concerns.
She is no longer a child, and has lived in a situation where, for the most part,
she was in control of her personal life.  Now, she is here, still wanting to be in
control, and making me, at times, feel more like the one who is visiting than the
one whose home it is.  She often acts like her opinions, priorities, wants and needs
are of far more importance in this home, than mine are.  This is a terrible way to
feel in your own home, and with your own child.  While I know she does not intentionally
make me feel this way, still, at times she does.  My life continues to go around in
the circle of feeling insignificant and incompetent and having to struggle for my
sense of self-worth.

That being said, I also realize that this living arrangement is very hard on her. For the last four years she has been able to do things her own way—eat what and when she wants, arrange the room which was her domain any way she pleased, dispose of anything that she felt, and come and go in the schedule which she designed(her responsibilities respected.) Now, she is back with her mom trying to ‘mother’ her. At 26 years old, that has to drive her nuts.

She is coming to understand that while this will always be home, it is not really HER HOME, but her mother’s home. (OUCH!) I so remember when I had to face that harsh reality, and how much it hurt to realize that you indeed can not go backwards. Home is always the place of the heart, but as we grow into adulthood, we must find and make our own place. Having done that, it is not only impossible to go back to being the child who lives with our parents, but is also unfair to the parents, and uncomfortable to the now child-adult. Once we have moved out of the house and struck out on our own, the home-place can never be regained. Our room is no longer ours, but becomes a room in our parent’s house. (OUCH, AGAIN!!)

After the relative freedom of life in Toronto, my sweet Joy is now confined to the fairly regimented schedule of the farm. Also, she is separated from dear friends and associates that have been a big part of her life for those 4 years. The depth of loneliness and feeling of seclusion has to be very painful. Her free spirit is being terribly challenged by the restraints of it all. She no longer is in a home with several independent adults, but is now in a home where we must all be respectful of the schedules, needs, wants and feelings of each other on a whole different level. The priority system is very different, and for someone so young and full of life, must feel terribly restricting.

There is one good thing in our favor, as far as this challenge is concerned; we all love each other very much. We are all willing to try our best to enjoy our time together and not let the other stuff cause too many problems. There is nothing that can subtract from that love.

So, maybe, through this entire summer experience, all of us are going to learn and grow. One thing is for sure, we will learn how to compromise and be considerate and gracious with one another, or die trying. God willing, by the end of Heather’s stay, we will appreciate and respect one another in a much deeper and more mature way. That is my fervent prayer.

As a child, youth and young adult, it seemed like my life went forward with no direction--mostly misdirection, actually. Being an adventurer and rebel, there was very little which would be called common in the choices which I made, the people I associated with, nor the places I lived, worked and played. I was a free spirit. My favorite song, through much of this time, was "I Am A Rock", by Simon and Garfunkel. It described my aloneness and stubborn will to survive. "And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries."

During this time, I was free to be as frightened as I needed to be. I was free to be as lonely as I designed things to make myself. I was free to indulge in as much self-righteous anger as I could drum up. After all, I was the middle child of seven children and had been raised in a verbally abusive environment. These were my excuses for running away at the ripe old age of fifteen; for living a life that bounced between the freedom of the hippie world and the structure and relative protection of the biker world. In the circles of which I travelled, I was respected and, for the most part, left alone. Still, even in those times, I could see how other's hurt behind the angery facades. Many times, I would approach someone, even after being warned not to, only to find out that they really were grateful that I had been able to see past their "act." None of us, in those environments, were living in the "real world." We all changed our costumes like chameleons, to suit the present surroundings. Like chameleon, we were in reality, seldom what we seemed to be.

Now, as I enter my fifties, I can see the patterns which were played out in my life. More than that, though, I can now see how God was present and active through all of those lost years. His grace and mercy is visible like a scarlett thread, the blood of Christ flowed over me and protected me, guided and directed my path, if not always my footsteps. He would gently lead me to a place where I could make a choice to turn things around for a better life, but still lost in my fear, loneliness and anger, I did not realize that those occasions where His reaching out the hand of grace and love. Only now, in retrospect, do I truly appreciate all that He had been so busy working on for my salvation.

Through those lost years, there were angels in the strangest places, who would appear in my life to hold up a mirror to me, so that I could see myself through painfully honest eyes. There were angels who would appear to lift me out of a potentially fatally, or in the least, fatally destructive situation. They would come into my life, work their miracles, then slip out, barely noticed.
One such person was then a vice-president of one of the most notorious biker gangs in our city. We had a brief casual relationship, but from those few weeks, we were both completely and forever changed.
He spoke to me of his growing faith. He felt God calling his name. A good lesson that God calls us right where we are and who we are. This fellow, because of his choices of companions, really had no one around him who would understand, never less care to listen. They would probably think he was nuts. At the same time, I felt God calling me to stop indulging in my emotional quagmire and make some radical changes in my life. We spent hours talking. Actually, we did little else. Neither of us was really interested in any physical intimacy, what we longed for was a much deeper need.

Today, this fellow is a minister, and I am a Soldier in The Salvation Army. I can't speak for him, but I know that God is definately using me. Even the past lost years. He continues to use me to reach others who are feeling just the same as I did all those years ago. My understanding of their situation is not from some book I was told to read, but from living the same paralysing fear, anger so intense that you loose the ability to breath and suicidal loneliness that they are going through. Because of this, I am so grateful for the things which are my past. They now are tools in my ministry tool box. I don't just empathize with those emotions, I have walked the mile in those very shoes. Now, I count it all joy.

It is my fervent prayer that God continues to use me in winding the scarlet thread of His grace, mercy and love in other people's lives.

Be Blessed, Jude