This has been a fractured week... I'm sure others know what I'm talking about. A week where almost nothing I planned actually happened. A week where new opportunities arose that I wasn't always sure I wanted to welcome. A week where I knew I was clinging close to my Beloved Lord and SAvior at one point in the day and knew just as surely a few hours later that I was deliberately trying to sing "I'll do it my way" . A week where I ran to Scripture, climbed in, and breathed deeply of His fragrance. And a week where I ran to sin and inhaled deeply of it's suffocating fumes. A week of intense memories, some of which made me incredibly sad and some of which made me feel incredibly thankful.
A week where I got to hold my sister's first living grandchild which was overwhelming, partly because of the promise of new life as this little one is the tip of a long, sometimes wondrous, sometimes torturous family history and yet by God's grace, she is here and her life is an unwritten page that holds great promise.
And partly because it makes me so acutely aware of what this little one's mother and siblings have endured to get to this place in their lives as adults. And partly because my sister wasn't here to hold this precious child (and might not have been able to hold her even if she was still living here on earth because of her enduring mental illness - something for which I thank God that she is now freed from).
So this week has been a combination of multiple journeys down half-buried roads as I've conversed with various people whom I love dearly and who, for one reason or another, I have failed and/or been estranged from.
In the midst of this, because I feel God has led me to do it, I have started visiting with a neighbor down the street every Friday afternoon. A man of God who is still preaching well into his twilight years.
This is the fourth time we've visited and each time we revisit the same memories of his youth and his years in the ministry. And at times I have wondered if my visits were a good thing or an interruption as he still goes and is active and has things to do. Until yesterday when he casually mentioned that he almost stopped by my house yesterday morning to let me know he'd be home in the afternoon and my heart leaped a little bit b/c his comment confirmed that God is in our little weekly confabs.... Even though my conversation is not all uplifting by any means. (I'm afraid I talked about the biggest thing on my mind right now - the one rat that evades our trap and still lives in our hydrangea bushes (horrible creature!) and, um, a neighbor who could win the curmudgeon award of the year. Yeah. That would be gossip... So, no, my visits are not saintly and my conversation not always uplifting....)
But God is in it somehow... always in the warp and woof of our see-sawing selves... grieving but loving us when we descend to talking about rats (animal and human) and cheering us on when we draw near to Him, abandoning ourselves to His love, His goodness, and His ability to take all the tangled threads of our lives and use them for our good and His glory.
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