(For Abby.)
People around me have mentioned me blogging something off-and-on for months now. I took a break (or just stopped). I didn't want to think about "stuff". Nothing makes confusing things easier, and broadcasting hope and joy just wasn't going to happen. I don't get it. I don't get why good people, no implications, get pooped on. You'd think that time and life and maturity would make that an easier reality to swallow, but for some reason I find it harder and harder to deal with.
So much of this life is counter-intuitive. And soooooo many prayers go into the abyss, to God's junk-mail pile or something. (My dad stuffs the stuff he gets into the prepaid envelopes and sends it back.) "Try again!" he says--I know that's not how it works (...that's not how any of this works). Too bad, while we wait for something to make sense, it feels like that--try again!
Sometimes I have moments of clarity and remember that there is a bigger world out there and that I am only one person in this story, with only one take on what's being written. It is like after the time my apartment got robbed: one day it occurred to me it wasn't about me at all, then I started feeling a little better. I didn't miss any of the sentimental things less, and I didn't feel less violated; but I did see, for a brief moment, that this other person looked at what I had as a pile of cash, and not as my mom's class ring that she gave me because I lost mine.
It never seems like overwhelming seasons can deliver ordeals one at a time, either. When the winds start blowing and seem to speed up and you can't catch your breath, there's supposed to be an ebb and flow where you get a break, but then there are those times there is no break. Or bombs go off and you're picking shrapnel out of your [body] for weeks. Mom says we get more than one overwhelming thing at a time because we'd dwell and get depressed if we just had the one thing to think about. I think she's crazy when she says stuff like that, but then again it may be wisdom. Crazy or wisdom? It is interesting how faith brings ups these questions.
A highlight (sarcasm) from the last year was missing two prominent teeth for quite some time. Although a retainer disguised it, I was not comfortable with it. As an adult, dealing with braces and making room for dental implants is not fun. Braces are not comfortable, but then the implants were painful...and the crowns, once in, were then removed. I affectionately called it my "Hill Billy look", and I had to sport it for way too long. I'm hoping the aches go away with these new crowns, I hope.
Moving, quitting a job, starting a job, braces and crowns, Mom's knee replacements, and so much more...pepper that with random announcements by insurance companies of what they were not covering the only good news came in moments when people filled a need I couldn't fill on my own. Those moments restore my faith. They also restore hope in this whole "bigger plan" idea, they make me move to action when others need help and those moments are humbling. If you're going to be humbled, that is the way to do it, through loving-kindness of those around you--otherwise the other ways seem unpleasant. And gratitude! If you want to be a grateful person, let life fall apart and see who comes through it with you. Or strange moments where you wonder if that was a person or angel. One time, after a particularly long week, I was meeting some people for dinner and outside the restaurant this older guy gets my attention and says "hey, it will get better." Things like that stick you with. Like that quote about courage sometimes being just trying again tomorrow, something like that...
In the midst of a chaotic time, I'm seeing God's hand directing and placing things sometimes. I'm told He knows what He's doing by some pretty decent people--I'll take their word for it. I'm also seeing little things unfold that make me hopeful for the future.At this new job, I was asked to orchestrate the creation of a 32' Christmas tree. At night, it is pretty. I took my oldest niece and nephew to see it a week ago. They immediately started giggling, the kind where they shrink down a little and put with their hands over their mouths. Then they ran toward it as soon as they got out of the car. Then they asked it they could go inside it, I felt compelled to say yes but said no. It's just a steel frame with everything suspended from it. There is something fun about mesh ribbon and white lights, it glows.
During the day the tree looks fine. But lit, at night, on this high point...on a busy corner...it is rather stunning. I had many gashes on my hands from cable ties and chain, and stringing lights but it seems worth it now--even though the cuts aren't quite healed yet. I should take this as a life lesson I suppose--when it's in the right place, at the right time, doing what it was made to do--people stare and smile, it feels like something special and important, and kids giggle when they see it--even though I know about the wounds that aren't quite healed. I guess I can only hope I glow too.
