Since referencing a pillar of salt in this post a few days ago, I've been thinking a lot about Lot's wife. Lot's wife. That's not a name. In the Book of Jasher, she is called Ado, or Edith. Good. Edith it is.
In the nineteenth chapter of Genesis, Edith and her family flee their home to escape God's destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Despite the angel's warning not to look back, Edith looks back toward her home in Sodom, and she becomes a pillar of salt.
Edith left her home, she left everything. She so deeply longed for what she left behind that she lost sight of her path. She was not mindful of her steps. Edith left her heart in her past, and she became unyielding, unable to move.
I can relate to Edith. My heart is so deeply attached to my past that if I do not let go, if I do not continue letting go, I will become the emotional equivalent of a pillar of salt: bitter, unbending, rigid.
Edith still lives. I know, because sometimes I hear her voice.
In my bedroom, sorting through one of a thousand boxes in the attic, I find a greeting card from my parents for my graduation from college in 2003. The card is written in my father's hand. His words are so sweet, he was so proud of me. I cry. I cry hard. I miss my daddy so much. And I don't want to leave my little house. I slump to the floor and cry until my eyelids are red and swollen. In this moment, Edith calls to me. Her voice comes as a shout from far away and a whisper from deep inside, saying, Let it go, beloved. Grieve, but do not remain at the grave. Look to your path. Continue your journey, and don't stop, don't stop. Don't stop.
Never stop.
In the nineteenth chapter of Genesis, Edith and her family flee their home to escape God's destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Despite the angel's warning not to look back, Edith looks back toward her home in Sodom, and she becomes a pillar of salt.
Edith left her home, she left everything. She so deeply longed for what she left behind that she lost sight of her path. She was not mindful of her steps. Edith left her heart in her past, and she became unyielding, unable to move.
I can relate to Edith. My heart is so deeply attached to my past that if I do not let go, if I do not continue letting go, I will become the emotional equivalent of a pillar of salt: bitter, unbending, rigid.
Edith still lives. I know, because sometimes I hear her voice.
In my bedroom, sorting through one of a thousand boxes in the attic, I find a greeting card from my parents for my graduation from college in 2003. The card is written in my father's hand. His words are so sweet, he was so proud of me. I cry. I cry hard. I miss my daddy so much. And I don't want to leave my little house. I slump to the floor and cry until my eyelids are red and swollen. In this moment, Edith calls to me. Her voice comes as a shout from far away and a whisper from deep inside, saying, Let it go, beloved. Grieve, but do not remain at the grave. Look to your path. Continue your journey, and don't stop, don't stop. Don't stop.
Never stop.
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