When I don't know where else to go ...
I escape into the world of a book.
The past week or so I have been entrenched in the era of slavery and abolition ... contemplating the spectacular writing ...
The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd is nothing short of a wonderful read. Discovering in the author's notes at the end that it was based on sisters who lived in Charleston near The Battery, sent my mind reeling into it's own stories. Just a week and a few days ago, I wandered those same such streets ... Aaron and I looked at the houses and put together stories of the people who lived there. Pretending. And yet this morning I am reminded that the best stories aren't pretend, even if they are somewhat fictional. The best stories are the ones we can find our place in ... the one where we can cause ourselves and our readers to wonder where reality ends and fiction begins.
Then, because I am still don't really know where else to go ... I open a book by Staci Eldridge's Discovering God's Dream of You ... I've had this book for a while and I really thought that the title was discovering God's dream FOR you ... but as I read through only a few short pages this morning, I flipped back through the table of contents to find something ... more ... personal. Personal enough that I'm not sure this is the day I will jump in with both feet ... She has already recounted a story where she is at a spa ... the ever daunting "one-size-fits-all" robe is delivered ... she's instructed on the procedures at the spa which include taking off all her clothes ... and already ... I know where this is going. And my breath catches in my throat ... and I realize that it isn't my breath, it's bile ... just thinking about humiliation brings things to my remembrance that over the course of years I have never spoken to anyone. As I've gotten older, I've been able to laugh about 'fat injections' as being the way to prevent wrinkling. This recollection for her, allows God to open up a part of my heart that I work very hard to close off ... and it may seem something as vain as my weight ... but in reality it's the lingering question that happens every time life shifts me into something different ...
Why don't I have victory here? Why haven't I been able to maintain lasting change? What is wrong with me?
Her questions sting. They cause me to look deep into myself and admit that I'm asking the same thing.
My job has ended it seems at the school where I have poured my time and energy for the past 4 years doesn't have a place for me next year. Enrollment is down ... I get that.
The job that is not longer there took every ounce of time and energy I had. The friendships that I had maintained for years have hardly a pulse left in them ... and it's my own fault. Life goes on ... I get that.
My only son is graduating. He really sorta started leaving this year. He is walking out this growing up thing with deliberation ... and while I am well-aware of how important it is for him to pull away ... I wasn't quite ready. I'm not sure if I would ever have been ready though. It's time for him to go ... I get that.
What I don't get ... is what to do now with all those "things" that life has so adeptly kept at bay for the better part of 25 years. Jobs, a husband, a son, friends, church ... all things that have kept me incredibly busy for my entire adult life ... are now ... changing. And I am lost.
So I'm back to the question that pulled me up short ... right here in my comfy couch this morning ... What was God's Dream OF me?
I'm wondering if I can stand to be still long enough to let him show me ...
The story He has been writing on the pages of my life isn't unfamiliar to many. But it is uncomfortable to most. It's a story where I'm finding my place ... deciding how much of the reality that seems like fiction to let go of ... and how much fiction will sugar-coat the important lessons so that they are digestible, if not palatable.
I guess this summer will be comprised of finding and letting go all at the same time.
The past week or so I have been entrenched in the era of slavery and abolition ... contemplating the spectacular writing ...
The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd is nothing short of a wonderful read. Discovering in the author's notes at the end that it was based on sisters who lived in Charleston near The Battery, sent my mind reeling into it's own stories. Just a week and a few days ago, I wandered those same such streets ... Aaron and I looked at the houses and put together stories of the people who lived there. Pretending. And yet this morning I am reminded that the best stories aren't pretend, even if they are somewhat fictional. The best stories are the ones we can find our place in ... the one where we can cause ourselves and our readers to wonder where reality ends and fiction begins.
Then, because I am still don't really know where else to go ... I open a book by Staci Eldridge's Discovering God's Dream of You ... I've had this book for a while and I really thought that the title was discovering God's dream FOR you ... but as I read through only a few short pages this morning, I flipped back through the table of contents to find something ... more ... personal. Personal enough that I'm not sure this is the day I will jump in with both feet ... She has already recounted a story where she is at a spa ... the ever daunting "one-size-fits-all" robe is delivered ... she's instructed on the procedures at the spa which include taking off all her clothes ... and already ... I know where this is going. And my breath catches in my throat ... and I realize that it isn't my breath, it's bile ... just thinking about humiliation brings things to my remembrance that over the course of years I have never spoken to anyone. As I've gotten older, I've been able to laugh about 'fat injections' as being the way to prevent wrinkling. This recollection for her, allows God to open up a part of my heart that I work very hard to close off ... and it may seem something as vain as my weight ... but in reality it's the lingering question that happens every time life shifts me into something different ...
Why don't I have victory here? Why haven't I been able to maintain lasting change? What is wrong with me?
Her questions sting. They cause me to look deep into myself and admit that I'm asking the same thing.
My job has ended it seems at the school where I have poured my time and energy for the past 4 years doesn't have a place for me next year. Enrollment is down ... I get that.
The job that is not longer there took every ounce of time and energy I had. The friendships that I had maintained for years have hardly a pulse left in them ... and it's my own fault. Life goes on ... I get that.
My only son is graduating. He really sorta started leaving this year. He is walking out this growing up thing with deliberation ... and while I am well-aware of how important it is for him to pull away ... I wasn't quite ready. I'm not sure if I would ever have been ready though. It's time for him to go ... I get that.
What I don't get ... is what to do now with all those "things" that life has so adeptly kept at bay for the better part of 25 years. Jobs, a husband, a son, friends, church ... all things that have kept me incredibly busy for my entire adult life ... are now ... changing. And I am lost.
So I'm back to the question that pulled me up short ... right here in my comfy couch this morning ... What was God's Dream OF me?
I'm wondering if I can stand to be still long enough to let him show me ...
The story He has been writing on the pages of my life isn't unfamiliar to many. But it is uncomfortable to most. It's a story where I'm finding my place ... deciding how much of the reality that seems like fiction to let go of ... and how much fiction will sugar-coat the important lessons so that they are digestible, if not palatable.
I guess this summer will be comprised of finding and letting go all at the same time.
posted by Amy B @ 9:50 AM
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