Have you ever accidentally super-glued your fingers together? Of course. Who hasn't? It hurts like a muh-tha when you pry them apart, right?
I have this lifelong habit of holding things that are important to me with a freakishly strong grip. While that may not always seem wrong because, after all, lots of GOOD things are worth holding onto, it does makes for a really miserable experience when someone or something reaches in and yanks "my precious" from me. It hurts like a muh-tha for a really long time.
Some 30-ish years ago, a pastor shared his grandpa's advice to "wear everything like a loose garment," easy to put on and (sigh) take off, if necessary. People who have learned how to do that know how to fully embrace and enjoy whatever they have, yet they understand it is not a part of their identity, so it slides on and off with ease. And when there is an understanding that the Giver is GOOD, there's also a certainty that they will not be left standing naked and alone. Whatever was removed is sure to be replaced with something that fits better and, perhaps, is more stylish and current than last season's model. At least, that's the way I like to think of it...;-)
So here we are today, nearing the end of an eventful year full of unexpected illness, and the kind of loss that comes with it. My husband's "textbook" appendectomy in late May dragged on through the summer with one complication after another and the grand finale in September was major surgery to remove a MRSA-filled abscess the size of two softballs from his chest cavity. What the what? Yeah, don't ask. We don't know either. But we DO know we have a new appreciation for the precious gift of life.
Had 2013 gone "according to plan," we would be two months into the construction of our modern dream home right now. Instead, we are taking what may feel like a diversion, and we're moving forward with integrity (calling on Henry Cloud's definition "the courage to face your reality) by coming to grips with the new reality that is ours. We are choosing to lay the dream aside while we get our bearings.
We still own our land and we still have our plans. But today we also hold the keys to a different gift: a little 2-bedroom 50s ranch in a modest Charlotte neighborhood. You see, after two years of renting we realize we're homeowners at heart. Having the ability to put our mark on the place where we live is "ensouling" for both of us and we have missed it. So we embrace fully (but not tightly!) what has been placed into our open hands at this moment, still trusting that the original dream will come to fruition, but choosing to enjoy each moment of the journey. Right here, right now.
Strangely,
your life is not about "you."
It is a part of a much larger stream called God.
...faith might be precisely that ability to trust the River,
to trust the Flow
and the Lover.
That takes immense confidence in God,
especially when we're hurting...
we can want to make things right quickly.
We lose our ability to be present
and go into our head and start obsessing....
become goal-oriented,
trying to push or even create the River--
the River that is already flowing through me.
FAITH does not need to push the river
precisely because it is able to trust that THERE IS A RIVER.
The River is flowing;
we are in it.
The River is God's providential love-
so do not be afraid.
We have been given the Spirit.
-Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs
