I haven't been around much because I haven't had much to say.
Or I have, but I didn't know how to say it.
Or I have, but didn't know if it should be said.
Or I have, but worried about who might read it.
And while I've been absent, life has gone on.
I find myself pondering my place in this world, both the physical world, and the cyber world.
Do my thoughts, my words, my actions hold significance?
Is significance to me, enough, or do others need to find me significant for my significance to have value?
I often don't see the fruits of my efforts.
I don't know if I've been a blessing or a burden.
I can't know if something I've said will be used later to impact a life for change.
Both in the physical world, and the cyber world.
I woke up this morning, tired, but warm beneath my comforter.
Blessed to read a passage in my Bible.
Next to a man who loves me, and loves the Lord, and was doing the same.
With children asleep in the next room.
Bears and Doggies tucked in the crooks of their arms.
Healthy. Warm. Oblivious. Happy.
My praises to the Lord, easy.
Blessed. Contented. Peaceful.
Healthy. Warm. Clothed. Fed. Full.
A family to love.
Boo boos to kiss.
Mouths to feed.
Clothes to wear.
Dishes to wash.
A schedule to keep.
My concerns, merely keeping up with the stresses of life.
Beating the bus.
Washing those dishes.
Laundering those clothes.
Feeding those mouths.
Worrying about those tiny cuts and scrapes.
Finding more time to sit and be still with my Lord.
Longing for the Lord to stir within my soul,
To hear of His voice,
To feel of His touch,
The embrace of His love.
I put my hot cider cup to my temple and the curve of my cheek bone,
and absorb it's heat. My eyes close and my eyelashes brush the smooth ceramic.
The prayer list rushes to the surface.
A mother having high risk heart surgery today.
A father recovering from elective brain surgery last week.
An infant in heaven. Her mother who aches.
Fertility questions and concerns for a number of my sisters.
Job loss. Possibility of job loss. Continued job search over many years.
A wife hundreds of miles from her husband.
Micah's friend who's parents just found out she has a serious neurological disorder.
My warmth, peace, contentment, and comfort squirm and ache within my being.
I fight survivors guilt, pray, then beat the guilt into a spirit of praise.
And then I don't.
Moments have ticked on,
Thoughts have moved on,
My world keeps spinning.
My contentment returns,
My ignorance and naivety win out
And the small meaningless stresses of life
Begin to take over again.
It's an interesting world the Lord created.
Good mixed in with evil.
Blessings a midst pain.
Prayer requests that break our heart
And moments that make it sing.
How we can choose to learn lessons from the experiences of others,
Or separate ourselves from their pain and circumstances.
How stories are only significant to us,
If they stir something up within us.
Emotionally or physically tying us to the prayer or need
Causes us to pray more sincerely and passionately.
Is it enough, that their tragedy or situation has caused me to reflect on life?
Is it even significant that I cherish my children more because of a friends loss?
My sister thinks I'm more sensitive than normal and spewing all of these thoughts and questions out as a result. Maybe. Because of this I debated burying this in the draft screen that has become a graveyard of posts I wasn't confident enough to post. But then she said that she also thinks perhaps we all need to be more sensitive than normal to the pains and concerns of those around us. I think there is truth to that and I also think maybe it doesn't matter at all, because writing this has broken a barrier of sorts, a ten foot pole that was standing between me and my Lord, my ability to see Him in the details. So often I learn and grow just from writing and I love how one or two sentences can turn into a long, raw, and spiritual journey type of post.
Until next time my friends,
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