The Discovery

Here it is…already. One more day until the one-year anniversary of Michael’s death, home going, or departure, which are all of the different ways that people have referred to it. I dislike using the term, “anniversary” because it usually means something celebratory, like our 25th wedding anniversary that we would have been celebrating this year, or the one year anniversary of his business merger and new partnership that we would have celebrated last month. This has been an anniversary that I have not looked forward to experiencing in any way. The memories and details of that week are still so fresh and keep trying to resurface. This past week has filled my emotional tank until it is overflowing and I need to write as much as I can to get all of the swirling feelings, questions, and revelations out of my head and onto my computer. It consistently brings me immediate peace when I am able to lie out my thoughts on “paper”. I plan on writing as much as I can in the next 48 hours in order to clear my thoughts and make room to breathe in my heart.



Last night, it popped up in my remembrance that I had an old folder from a class I took in high school with many things that I had written in it. It is bright yellow, falling apart, and has my name in cursive written all over it, “Jene’ Ellen Ray”. Why do high school girls practice writing their names so much? Is it vanity, boredom or both? I took a creative writing course in the second semester of my senior year and it was the easiest “A” I had ever earned. I absolutely loved the class and all of the assignments, but never did much else with the skill besides periodic poems, some sporadic journaling, song writing, letter writing (which can be a craft all by itself), and then putting my own touch on any papers that I had to write throughout college while getting my Special Education degree. Last night, I felt the need to take some time and read through that folder to see if there was anything that I had written then that could speak to me now. I was surprised to see that my “voice” in written form was almost exactly as it is now….28 years later and many life changes.

In addition to pieces written during that one semester of my senior year, I had put a few other things that I had written in the couple of years following high school. I pulled out this poem called, “The Discovery”, which I had typed on a typewriter. I had written it just because I felt like writing it. I read it and was mesmerized how it defined my faith and my journey with God at this juncture in my life. It was not until this afternoon that I looked at the bottom of the page and read, “September 1986, By Jene’ Ellen Ray”…. That was the month and year that I met Michael. It was the beginning of this long journey. I was 20 years old. We were married the next September. September 1986 was a fork in the road for me. I chose Michael Barranco, the right choice, and began a long and beautiful journey with him. I could look at the poem with him in mind, meaning he was “the discovery”, but I was very clear in the poem that I was yearning for a more intimate relationship with God. I fell in love with Michael so fast and so hard that I clung to God for answers. Michael had me turned upside down and inside out. (He had that effect on most people.) We loved “discovering” God together.



The Discovery


That which I cannot have, I desire the most
That which I do not understand, I want to know
That which seems intangible, I try to grasp
That which is a mystery to me, I will solve
That which is a challenge, I will take
That which is undiscovered, I try to reveal


Your answers for life are the questions that keep me going…


Sometimes I feel I cannot have
Sometimes I don’t understand
Sometimes You seem intangible
Sometimes You are an unsolved mystery
Sometimes You are a challenge
At times I feel there are parts of you
That will never be discovered


But Father, I realize that I can have you,
Understand You, and unfold You.
You are not the challenge,
The challenge is against ourselves
And You are the God Almighty, waiting
With open arms to be discovered.


Written by
Jene’ Barranco
September 1986