Windows

I saw a man with a vintage Illinois shirt today. Like the ones my dad wore in the 90s. There was a robin out by the lake and a red-winged blackbird. I sipped my coffee with my journal open. Buds are starting to come out on the trees. People walking in the circle around the lake, around and around.

I saw another man bent over his walker today. He had a Vietnam veteran hat on and a prosthetic leg with the Cubs logo on it. The woman walking beside him I presumed to be his wife and I thought for him, “Jesus, if you were here you would’ve healed him.” And I thought for her, “You are strong, this is what ‘in sickness and in health’ means.” She walked slowly by him, step for step. I saw them driving in and they hadn’t gotten that far when I came walking up beside them. I just. I think we have a view of this life, that it should be pain and trial-free, especially once we know the Lord. Like that is the natural order of things. And it’s just not true, we aren’t even owed breaks. Trial can come trial after trial after trial, like waves or contractions, one right on top of the other and we’re like, “Lord, can’t I even catch my breath?”. And sometimes you can’t. And that is a hard pill to swallow. I don’t know that I have.

I read something recently that reminded me that when I said yes to Jesus, I said yes without any stipulations. Which meant “yes, no matter what.” Jesus said Himself that “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 16:25). Will I lose my life, my plans, my hopes, my dreams, for Him? I do feel like I’m being asked to lay it all down and to be honest (and I’ve said this before), I don’t think I fully believed that God meant what He said when He said that. At least not for me. But it’s taken this long, when prayers I’ve prayed have gone unanswered for so many years, and I feel too young to say that, but it’s true - and other answers have just been a straight “no”. And so I’m faced with the question, “Will you lay it all down?” I’ve heard by people I love and who know God better than I do that tears are worship too, and that comforts me. Also naming the wounds, naming what has hurt, what hurts, that laundry list that says, “God, isn’t this enough already? Haven’t you molded and shaped me enough? Haven’t I done enough ‘penance’ even though I say I don’t believe in that? Why don’t You hear me? Why don’t You like me?” And it’s not so much the list that is saying it, but me. It’s just not tidy enough for small group. And it’s also not the Gospel,  but it’s how I feel. And God can take it, He makes room for that. Because life can feel like God doesn’t like us very much, like His love is reflected in our circumstances, and maybe that He even loves other people more. We whisper that, we don’t say it out loud. But it plays on all our wounds of abandonment, betrayal, neglect, apathy, etc. doesn’t it? Today I tried sitting by a window, by the lake, where I could see the birds, with a cup of coffee, and wrote it all down for Him. It didn’t  solve anything, but He was there, I knew it.