Anxiety settled in during May, and I weathered a rough couple of weeks. Hence, the silence in this space. I don’t publish when I’m struggling to keep my head afloat. The clouds have lifted, for which I’m so deeply grateful I could click my heels like a leprechaun.
Still, I hate dwelling in the state of “between” things, the space where I’m not where I was and not yet where I want to be. I want to be at a final destination, in a settled place. I want stability in my grasp for an extended time. I want more than just bread for today. I forget there’s no guarantees in life. All I hold is this moment. I can’t fast-forward, rewind, or pause. Continue reading
I wanted a different life story. The vindication story. The one where God shows up, makes me victorious and I get to move on celebrating. The one where the miracle happens and I no longer feel forsaken. The one where I wasn’t left holding the short straw.
Maybe the days just before Easter are an excellent time to process this. I’m not the only one to have my story take an unexpected (and unwanted) turn. Continue reading
Happy Spring, everyone!
In spite of the snow in Minnesota this morning, the crocus, iris and pasque flowers are opening up! I was thrilled to get outside with my camera, even if I got snowed on before I was done with my adventure. I’m a bit obsessed with pasque flowers right now. I love their fluffy fuzziness that glows in the light!
Here’s a few of my favorite photos from this morning.
Laying flat on my mat, tears spilled out of my eyes unbidden. Moments like these make me hate going to yoga. I think of myself as emotionally intelligent, but mainly that just means I do pretty decent on picking up emotions in other people. I’m excellent at ignoring and stuffing my own, particularly those volatile ones that make me feel unholy or unfeminine or like I’m going to drown in a well of sadness.
I can crochet.
About a month or so ago, I never would have imagined I could say those words.
Getting trapped in a crowd causes my ears to pulse. I can hear the thumping of my heart pumping blood. My eardrums rattle like the china in my kitchen cabinet when our neighbor’s bass is turned up too loud. My heart races. Fight or flight. Survival mode kicks in. My temper fuse, which is normally fairly long, shortens to millimeters.
Two downtrodden disciples walk out of Jerusalem on their way to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35). The past few years of their lives feel like a complete waste of time. The man on whom they banked their hopes and futures was crucified. Dreams of God’s triumph, justice and restoration, smashed as their Lord hung up on a cross slowly suffocating. Where did his power go? Were his words really true? Will they too be hunted down as criminals? Guilty by association? And so they walked away from Jerusalem. Bewildered. Beaten down. Lost.
I think this is why the road to Emmaus sings to me, and why it might be my favorite passage. Ever have those moments where you’ve fallen flat on your face and you wonder where God went? Thought you were following God only to have Him seemingly disappear? Encountered disappointing defeat that makes you feel you’ve been following a fraud? And in response, found yourself trudging on whatever road you can find on your flight out of where you’re called to be?