Transitions

It is ironic that I like driving alone in my truck. Even a short jaunt from place to place on a sunny afternoon brings me immense happiness. The irony is in the fact that while I adore these physical transitions I struggle with the emotions of life’s most basic transitions. Changes weigh heavily on my heart. Season leaves behind season, years peel away to reveal new decades. I often feel stuck in remembrance, unwilling to let the precious past go.

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.~Psalm 126:5&6

I’ll never sit at Grandma’s side, chatting about nothing and about life in pain while we watch the brass pendulum tick the hours by. It hurts that I can’t call her on Fridays anymore and that my phone is slowly erasing all the saved voicemails she left. I treasure these glimpses into a time before her final transition.
My composition instructor who so challenged, bored, inspired, and fascinated me (depending on the day) will not teach me anymore. My heart is tender as I walk amongst classmates down the gray hall. I hear him enthusiastically yelling even now, “Do something worth writing about!” and I am thankful.
I won’t see Tori again. A friend as constant as the sunrise won’t stand next to me in the pool again. She won’t cut the cake at my wedding. She is gone. We won’t talk about our lives or cry over movies together because that time has reached its end. Suddenly, her color in my rainbow is gone, and the childish era when our lives overlapped has passed. A painful wound is left.
Such great, somber hope fills the void.
Spending time on behalf of the outcasts, and using my voice to speak for those without voices, yields less of a paycheck than one might think. How to cling less tightly to earthly security, its a dear lesson to learn. With God’s help, I will rely on Him more fully in time.
Growing into my personal beliefs instead of foolishly adopting those of my culture, another lesson. I am holding more loosely to ideals with which I have been indoctrinated and suspending life long biases in pursuit of personal faith in the better Way, the real Truth, and the abundant Life. There is a Guide who knows the best way. Jesus is my Rabbi, also my Friend. To Him I owe a loyalty greater than I owe to family, country, or friends.
Learning to joyfully count the cost and give it all up for the sake of my King.
Aching as time continually changes the landscape of my life.
Rejoicing in new lives, new days, and memories that speak: I am not home yet.

I drive my truck and I love it, from place to place.

Be to me a rock of refuge to which I may continually come~Psalm 71:31

Hearing, I forget; seeing, I remember; writing, I understand.~Chinese Proverb

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Lab Rats

Anticipation, slightly fearful. It creeps up me like moss climbing an oak tree. But moss is on the outside. This feeling, it starts to coat my insides. My emotions become choked: cut short by the tightness in my breast.

Be calm.

This too shall pass.

Look forward, beyond this. Let your internals breathe. Allow air, thick and nutritious, to feed your panicked mind. Oxygen seeps in and bathes me in clarity. Healthy, wholesome; it can happen.

Perhaps it will.

I went in, not sure whether I should be accepting this as a big deal, or playing it off. The piercings had to come out, minimal blood loss required.

I disrobed and sat on my gurney. The nurse had fled. The woman next to me was learning  how to keep the bladder wall from being irritated by her cathiter.  Nothing between me and the cold air but a napkin-thin hospital gown.

Naked, I thought. Exposed. Fragile.

And then I thought of all the children, grown or young, who go through this time and again. They are poked and prodded, and treated like lab rats. Their hair comes off along with their clothes. Not just once, but as many times as they can count IV pricks in the crook of their arms. I cried for them. Tears for the battered ones. Tears for this sick, sick world. Tears because of how easy it is to ignore the stench of death that surrounds us.

And I wanted to cry more but it seemed childish to do so. Tears can’t change a thing.

 

Cloudy Eyes

I have broken,

Broken Your commands.

I see it now;

My eyes have been clouded with

Sin,

And I weep

Weep

Weep;

So evil,

So wretched,

So dark is my heart.

I am so sorry.

Hear my pleas for mercy once again

And be gracious-

Do not pass me by.

Teach me not to exhaust Your boundless grace.

I love You.

I love You.

Forgive my despicable behaviour.

Make me new

Again.

Replace my guilt with boldness,

Amen.