Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Charlena E. Jackson

Quote by Charlena E. Jackson

“Dear Fire in the Sky, I know that you know well enough what tainted love is. I wonder, is that why you destroy any and everything that crosses your path? I want to let you know that I feel your pain, but not all love is tainted. I know it is hard to trust, but sometimes we have to take a chance. There was a time when nobody could put out my fire, not even water. The wind knew my pain because it helped fuel my fire, and it spread effortlessly without even trying. My heart was bruised in ways that nobody could ever imagine. However, I survived. I’ve had many days that used to be uncertain. Now, I am exactly where I belong. I am home.”

Quote by Charlena E. Jackson

Book:Pinwheels and Dandelions
Create image

Work

Pinwheels and Dandelions

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Charlena E. Jackson

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Charlena E. Jackson. more

You May Also Like

“Sure, some rich people work hard – but so do koilawalas, construction workers, and domestic helpers. Other bases of privilege have little to do with personal merit: our aptitudes, health, inheritance, social connections, and other assets derive from contingencies (such as the accident of birth) over which we have no control. Even our education reflects inherited circumstances, and our parents’ and teachers’ efforts, far more than our own. All this is without going into the fact that wealth and power often build on corruption, exploitation, and crime”

WealthPovertyPowerIndiaPrivilegePersonal Merit
Book:Sense and Solidarity: Jholawala Economics for Everyone
Create image

“Eventually, he brought me a translation of the Islamic Holy Book, the Quran, and one night, as I read, I came across a sura that touched me so deeply, moved me so profoundly, it was as though God had whispered in my ear. My life didn't change, the circumstances that plagued me -- poverty, exile from the real world, continuous fears about what lay ahead -- didn't change. I wasn't instantly, miraculously cured of the blackness that was rooted in my soul, but I was comforted. I, who felt and believed that I was beyond even the capability of God to love and forgive, who feared daily retribution of the meanest, vilest kind, cried to the first time since I'd come to this house, not bitterly, not grudging the tears. 'By the morning hours, And by the night when it is stillest The Lord hath not forsaken thee nor doth He hate thee And verily the latter portion will be better for thee than the former And verily thy Lord will give unto thee so that thou will be content Did He not find thee an Orphan and protect thee? Did He not find thee wandering and direct thee? Did He not find thee destitute and enrich thee? Therefore the orphan oppress not, Therefore the beggar drive not away, Therefore the bounty of thy Lord be thy discourse. (Sura 93)' That verse freed me. I was not an outcast, not hated by a God who could love and forgive everyone but me. In time, I could see my being in this house as an act of man, not an act of God. I also began to believe that there might be another reason for my being directed here; I was not here to die, but perhaps to do something about the place and the people. I began to feel I'd been given back purpose.”

PurposePovertyRecoveryMeaningOutcast
Book:Upstairs In The Crazy House: The Life Of A Psychiatric Survivor
Create image

“There was an inevitability about our kind of illness, a knowledge that lurking over the next hill was our private monster, which would grab us, shake us up and eventually deposit us in a hospital bed, doped to the gills with anti-psychotic medication, not remembering much of anything and not caring that we couldn't.”

PovertyMental IllnessPsychiatric Survivor
Book:Upstairs In The Crazy House: The Life Of A Psychiatric Survivor
Create image

“Andy had taken my jeans and a pair of his that no longer fit over to the laundromat with some change earned from the owner. He washed and dried them while I waited under the covers in my bed. When he had finished, he presented the two pairs to me with a rare, honest smile. There were few things I would have appreciated more than this, and I did not hesitate to let him know how pleased and happy he'd made me. Those filthy jeans had become my private nightmare, and having only one pair left me in fear of a broken zipper or a tear where it counted. I felt like a child putting on freshly laundered pajamas, cared for, loved.”

PovertyGratitude
Book:Upstairs In The Crazy House: The Life Of A Psychiatric Survivor
Create image

“I joined with task forces and coalitions, replete with professionals and para-professionals, working in the system. Often, too often, I was the only ex-patient at the table. I was continually surprised by the degree of resistance to the notion that we -- those directly affected -- should have more of a say in how we are housed and treated. The provincial civil service also was reluctant to hear and change what needed to be changed; many times I heard how Rome wasn't built in a day, and that the wheels of government grind slowly. I found *I* was considered the problem, not the issues I was bringing to light. I went through periods of intense frustration, all to aware that patience is fine when you're reasonably fed, clothed and housed, when there is purpose and meaning to your life. Meanwhile, our people were forced to endure, to try to survive in intolerable circumstances through long years of committees and endless debate and red tape.”

PovertyMental IllnessPsychiatric Survivor
Book:Upstairs In The Crazy House: The Life Of A Psychiatric Survivor
Create image