Some will understand more than others. This morning, I self-medicated with dry shampoo and a lavender honey almond milk latte.
I pulled myself out of bed early with the birdies after a thoroughly tiring day of travel and mourning to drive to a meeting with church folk. Waking up, I saw news of more tragedy and injustice. Soul sank a bit more. Still, I groggily made my way around the house and eventually out the door. Upon arrival at Perkins, I was pleased to find that I was just barely early, and chagrined to realize that with travel plans and whatnot, I had the dates entirely wrong. The early morning meeting was yesterday. I really should have stayed in bed for an extra hour. or three. Hooray.
Options started to flit through my brain. How about visiting Grandma? She was barely getting up by then, and early morning routine is not a good time to interrupt. Head home and get going on the forever long and foreboding to-do-list? Crank out run 1 of 2 today? I thought of some other things, too. Impressive, I know, especially since they all received a mental “Nah.” Just keep driving. Light-bulb! I love the grocery store. I’ll stop by the grocery store and pick up a couple of things that had been on my other lengthy list. Not open yet. Drive some more. I’d love to stop by my Aunt’s place, but know they’re not in town.
I found myself, as I often do, driving around the curvy shores of the lakes, pouring my heart out in song, in hopes of making some mini protest against the dark and proclaiming truth. Who hears you?
Craving presence, still, I finally stopped, grabbed my little decorated Bible, scrambled across the street and moseyed down to the bench, still wet from last night’s rain. I stopped and glanced at the handful of runners making their way around the lake, and I opened to the Psalms. Earlier, I had read of Nebuchadnezzar's disastrous downfall and our own tendencies to build sandcastles in hopes of grandiosity, and I needed a bit more perspective. Here are snippets of Psalm 135 that I read, tuning out the pat-thud of runners' feet, the lapping of the water at the shore, the airplanes overhead and cars passing behind, letting eyes well up with hot tears, and tuning-in to the sun peaking through the clouds and the promise of hope that does not disappoint:
Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good; sing to his name, for it is pleasant!
For I know that the Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods.
Whatever the Lord pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps.
He it is who makes the clouds rise at the ends of the earth, who makes lightnings for the rain and brings forth the wind from his storehouses.
He it was who struck down the firstborn of Egypt, who sent signs and wonders, who struck down many nations.
Your name, O Lord, endures forever, your renown, O Lord, throughout all ages. For the Lord will vindicate his people and have compassion on his servants.
The idols of the nations are silver and gold, the work of human hands. They have mouths, but do not speak; they have eyes, but do not see; they have ears, but do not hear, nor is there any breath in their mouths. those who make them become like them, so do all who trust in them!
O house of Israel, bless the Lord! You who fear the Lord, bless the Lord!
Pray, move. I got myself going after that, including the lavender-honey almond-milk latte I had been wishing for for the last week or so and starting in on that list.
Sometimes, you can just get rolling and move on from whatever monsters are lurking, but often, it’s a little or a lot better to give some space and tears to the heartache and heartbreak and screams of injustice and pain in this world, and to remember to breathe and give thanks for your currently beating heart before taking that next step towards normalcy, and perhaps extend a hug or a hand with a bit of extra grace toward yourself and others (who might choose something other than a silly latte to call up smile-worthy memories and flavors in life).
A quote I saw at the bitterly beautiful Holocaust museum brought simple perspective from a survivor whose call to resistance was step-by-step pursuing life in the face of death. Like the Psalmist's table in the presence of enemies. Eat, laugh, love.
So,
Don’t lose hope. Outwardly we are wasting away. Inwardly we are being made new day by day. These momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. Focus on the unseen. The eternal.
So, we're supposed to "Give Thanks" all the time--more than a hashtag, but still publicly. We do so in church, in some sense, but some people aren't really singers. I think I need an ongoing thankful list to roll through as the days go racing by, the storm clouds pour, and still the sun beats down on the crazy ride. The storms are real, the pain and darkness ever more evident, as is the light and the yearning for it.
