Like the world is askew.
But I sense and see and feel and know the light breaking through.
We are sick. Again. Not terribly but enough to make my mind reel again about how we deal with this here and wonder if I can take anymore. And when I realized yet another cycle of sickness was making its way into our home I felt my heart beat so loud in my chest. Fear. I remember in my ‘less chill days’ the feeling of a panic attack rising in my body and I just sat and cried. It is just too much. But tears are cleansing. They can be the beginning of uncovering pain and ushering in healing.
Another 5 minutes and a “hodi” came at our door. I was still teary eyed but went to greet a neighbor and friend who came by to make sure I had gotten the gift of a mango she had dropped off earlier in the day while I was at work. I did. I said thank you and then I explained my tear stained face. I told her we were sad because of our loss but that we rejoice and know he is with God in heaven because he followed Jesus and loved and lived for Him. All of his 97 years worth of days. That moment was such a stark contrast for me. A moment ordained from above. We are here. Lots of days it sucks. To be blunt. But we are here because we really want to see Jesus glorified and lifted up. By us; His beaten down at times, broken but redeemed, and imperfect saints. By everyone; every tribe, every nation, every tongue who has not heard about His glory. His peace. His Abundance. And somehow that made the pain of not being there have less sting.
But even though I am surrounded by people there are so many days I am lonely. And we cannot continue like this. But I am so torn because the part of me that wants to put up boundaries and step back also knows that the most amazing learning and growing has occurred for me when I have been stretched past what I knew to be comfortable. Past what I would chose for myself. Right now we are living with the “what-if’s,” with the unanswered questions, and without the plan or clear path we want. But that is life in this space. And I know for sure we want to see Jesus. In all of it. And I do know I am learning a lot about what really matters. I don’t think I’ll ever look back at my life and wished I had spent more time dusting. But I could be biased because I hate cleaning even in moderate temperatures and will make any excuse to not do it. But I do know for sure I cannot let opportunities pass me by to share, love, be with my family, and others. In Kiswahili one word for time is nafasi and it also means “opportunity, space, or chance” and I think that is pretty perfect. We only have limited nafasi. All of us. What will I choose to do with it? And this is life and we are trying to find our way through it. This blurry, winding road somewhere out there in the distance. To still maintain some semblance of family time, space, and time to breathe. Not easy.
But worth it.
And maybe He reveals things in His time for His purposes. No definitely. Trust. I took 20 minutes today to hide in our office and blare some Third Day songs to drown out the noise outside our front door. And it was needed. The words brought me to tears because of the rawness that exists in my soul right now.
I’m dying out here on my own, long before I am ready your arms are wide open waiting for me to come home.
give me revelation, show me what to do, because I have been trying to find my way but I haven’t got a clue
I’ve got nothing without You.”
Yeah, something like that. We are struggling but it is ok. It requires revelation that only He can provide. It forces us to depend on Him and we are clinging and waiting. We are asking “Lord, what is Your highest use of our lives?” and then begging for the courage to live that out.