A Meeting Place

May12

I was keenly aware of yesterday’s stint at the storage locker every time I tried to use my legs and arms today. I don’t think I ever fully appreciated just how many times we use our legs and arms in a day. Many, many times. Needless to say, I didn’t get a whole lot done today.

I brought home several old journals last night and spent a lot of time reading my thoughts and prayers of yesteryear and reflecting. The last two years have been trying in ways I had actually forgotten. Starting in December of 2006, finishing up my first semester back in school full time and welcoming my brother home from Thailand (sans son and wife due to numerous circumstances beyond his control), each new happening was increasingly difficult, leading up to the cataclysmic (to us) pregnancy and loss last fall. A week to the day after that, my Nana died. The next month our car was stolen. Both of us were still in school and Ishi worked full time. It was hard to read my words of those days – I didn’t rail at God in anger or demand to know why these things were happening – I begged God to forgive me for not being more grateful for what I still had.

In a way, the woman I was when I was at my most wretched was better behaved than the one I am now. She serves as a better example to those who mourn than the woman I am now that I am just a few weeks past the worst of it all. It’s stunning to me how fortune separates us from God! What are we to make of this; that at our darkest, grief-stained hour we are somehow most able to meet God in the way we should?

Or of this; that God, in His darkest, bloodiest, most agonizing hour on earth, met us as completely as He ever could?

Filed under On Being His

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  • Project Timekeeper Box:
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I’m here because I’m lonely. I’m here because people who are lonely in the same way I am lonely have a very hard time finding each other. .

Being hearing impaired / deaf is lonely.
Having bipolar disorder is lonely.
Being an undergraduate student in your mid-thirties is lonely.
Being a Biblical Studies major is lonely.
Being infertile is lonely.

And even though it shouldn’t be, being desperately in love with God is sometimes the loneliest feeling there is.

So there it is. I’m dropping any attempt to be slick or intellectual or one of the cool kids. I’m just here to share the things I struggle with, the things I’m trying to understand and the things I am learning.