Friday, May 31, 2013
When my heart is heavy, when my spirit is anxious, I like to look at trees.
There is something about the gentle rocking of treetops as the breeze caresses them that makes me think of God. It is a very basic lesson from long ago. The Holy Spirit moves and though we cannot see Him, we can see the evidence of Him. This reminder of that lesson, as I watch the wind rustle the leaves, always calms me. I remember that I am not alone, despite what it looks like. I remember that He is moving if I watch for the evidence. I remember that I am His. Today, I am grateful that I look up. It has been one of those difficult days.
As I sat across the table from my friend, she unemotionally asked, "You know you guys are doing suicide watch, right?"
I knew that was part of this meeting. I knew it was the reason that I texted her prayers and little quips....to test the line, to see if she was still there. But something about it being so plainly spoken punched me in the gut.
"Not her. Please." Unspoken prayers offered as my stomach churned.
What is there to say? I swallow back the tears and the bile and crack a pathetic joke about how we did this for another friend, even setting up exchanges where someone else would assume custody, but that was about a break up. This feels sharper.
Another friend asked me for wisdom on a devastating loss in her life. I wish. I wish I knew the wisdom that would make it all better. Instead, I spoke of the resurrection of the dead...so far off when the pain screams in your ears.
What started off as an easy day of recouping and reclaiming, of cleaning and sorting, has turned into an afternoon of wrestling and praying. What can you do about the pain that leaves you in a broken heap? What can you do when you don't know how to carry on anymore? What do you tell those who ask you?
I would like to refer to my pastor. I would like to grab them all by the hand, march to the church and drop them off. Honestly. I would like to have an elder to cast out demons and lay hands to heal. I would like someone, anyone, to fix it. Yeah. I would. But it doesn't really work that way.
I am the light of the world, reminded a Facebook friend. I am the light for those around me. I am a lighthouse that helps them navigate-not because I am wise or amazing, but because of His light. When they look to me, the only place that I can look is up. Amen.