Saturday time. That's what I call it when I leave the house and get alone. Alone with the Lord, alone with my thoughts, alone with a pen (or, in this case, a keyboard).
I'm out for my Saturday time. It's happened about 3 times in the last 6 months. And I can feel it.
So many memories NOT recorded. So many thoughts NOT expressed. So many feelings NOT processed.
At least not out loud. And for a verbal processor, that can be rather painful.
A year ago, life was so different than it is now. A year ago, Aaron and Bart shared space--and blood--in my womb. They lived together, and I'm quite certain that even now, there are times when Bart feels Aaron's absense.
I feel it every day.
And yet....life goes on. Time marches. Days pass. And I love, love, love the little one in my arms, even as the other is in Another's. (Oh, how much safer His are than mine!)
Now, other matters hold my attention: pain in the life of friends, joy in the lives of my children, struggles of parenting, laughter returning. I am still a ball of emotions, often feeling sad. Not a sad that an acquaintance would recognize...in the everyday, the sadness hides. But rather, one that those who know me well see. It's a sadness that remains, and, I am beginning to think might remain for quite some time...maybe even until I'm Home. It's a sad that says that the world isn't right, that brokenness is the identity of this place in which we live. I can either embrace it and figure out how to live anyway...or I can pretend it isn't there and let it creep up on me in ugly ways unexpected.
I am so blessed. God has graced me with blessings untold. Grace upon grace is my reality. And yet, my posture in the grace is often one of grief and worship these days. Grief for the missing, for the sad, for the loss.....and worship for the What Is that is much more solid, eternal, and everlasting than any of the misses, sadnesses, and losses of this broken place.
God is my rock, my strength, my portion. Blessed be His name, yesterday, today, and forever.
I'm out for my Saturday time. It's happened about 3 times in the last 6 months. And I can feel it.
So many memories NOT recorded. So many thoughts NOT expressed. So many feelings NOT processed.
At least not out loud. And for a verbal processor, that can be rather painful.
A year ago, life was so different than it is now. A year ago, Aaron and Bart shared space--and blood--in my womb. They lived together, and I'm quite certain that even now, there are times when Bart feels Aaron's absense.
I feel it every day.
And yet....life goes on. Time marches. Days pass. And I love, love, love the little one in my arms, even as the other is in Another's. (Oh, how much safer His are than mine!)
Now, other matters hold my attention: pain in the life of friends, joy in the lives of my children, struggles of parenting, laughter returning. I am still a ball of emotions, often feeling sad. Not a sad that an acquaintance would recognize...in the everyday, the sadness hides. But rather, one that those who know me well see. It's a sadness that remains, and, I am beginning to think might remain for quite some time...maybe even until I'm Home. It's a sad that says that the world isn't right, that brokenness is the identity of this place in which we live. I can either embrace it and figure out how to live anyway...or I can pretend it isn't there and let it creep up on me in ugly ways unexpected.
I am so blessed. God has graced me with blessings untold. Grace upon grace is my reality. And yet, my posture in the grace is often one of grief and worship these days. Grief for the missing, for the sad, for the loss.....and worship for the What Is that is much more solid, eternal, and everlasting than any of the misses, sadnesses, and losses of this broken place.
God is my rock, my strength, my portion. Blessed be His name, yesterday, today, and forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment