HARD LESSON HOPE

It’s been a few days… time off for a couple of hard lessons.  I know, I know… “sheesh, is she gonna do another downer of a post?”  Well… no.  I’m not gonna make it a downer of a post.  This is a hope post… the kind where you’re hiking through a dark woods and suddenly you come to a clearing.  Sun is shining, a cool breeze blows and you see how far you’ve come... but  wait, I’m not done!  Shimmering on the far horizon, you see your destination.  You see your path.  You don’t know what you’ll encounter on the way, but you see there is a way.  Hope.

It was a rough week up until my hope moment.  I get small when things get rough.  I think small, I dream small, I nibble at the day until I’ve simply chewed it all away. I felt very un-heroic last week… very hurt. Hurt by someone I once trusted. And when you let hurt become your reality then it’s game over.  But then…

I came out of the woods.  Denny and I left our 4 bruised little walls and went to a party.  There is nothing like laughter and healthy companionship to snap the chains of self-absorption.  But that’s not the hope moment.  That moment came as a result of the party.  We were invited to church… and the bulletin may as well have said, “Hi Sandy and Denny – this service is for you.”  The songs, the prayers said for us, the words spoken over us were… Hope.  And Life.  And a big old Daddy hug from God. It was a glimmer, a shimmering dancing vision of the journey ahead.  And it was good.  

Thank you Daddy – I needed that…

THE THINGS YOU LEARN IN A TRUCK…

One thing I learned about moving your entire life in a 26ft. truck – you need to make sure you have Kleenex… lots and lots of Kleenex.  And don’t be afraid to use them. 

The night before we left in that truck God gave us a full moon rising over the mountains behind our house.  I still cry a little thinking about it.  It’s moments, eternity-scented moments like that, that make me realize that 13 years is no small thing.  I am imprinted by early morning mists and winter wheat softly breathing in the wind.  I’ve seen perfect snowfields illuminated by moonlight, hang-gliders sky-dancing on summer evenings, I’ve seen seasons unfold and refold themselves… and somehow, unaware, 13 years slipped by.  When you’re in a truck pulling away, you feel the roots pulling out of the ground… that’s when you realize what 13 years really meant.

Another thing I learned in the truck is that there is no better companion than my husband… and if you let these “hauling your life in a truck” experiences teach you, you begin to see what you really have.  I have someone who loves me unconditionally, who is clear as glass, tender as silk, and strong as iron.  We cried and laughed and cried some more and asked God a lot of questions.  And we did it together.  Yeah, when you’re driving away in a truck, you learn what “together” means.

One more thing I learned in a truck – be ready for surprises.  About half-way through the journey, we looked out the window and saw a pick-up pulling a smaller trailer.  Hmmm… another couple in transition.  Double-take.  It wasn’t just another couple, it was fellow refugees from where we worked, on their way to Texas to find a place to live! Waving and catcalling out the window led to a truck stop lunch together.  It was a joy.  It was a delight.  It was just what we all needed. It was more than a happenstance – it was a mini surprise party planned by God.

Lessons of the Truck say there are no accidents, only adventures.  These are just a few of the things I have learned in a 26ft. truck on the road to my future. 

And “the road goes ever on and on…”

TRANSITIONS...

Transitions usually happen with a change.  Duh.  But I mean a big change… like uprooting a life of 13 years, putting it in a 26 ft. truck, and moving to a place you’ve never lived before – in fact, a place you’ve barely visited.  That’s “transition.”  I could get into the “whys” of it all, give you a blow by blow account of what pushed us off the cliff into the unknown, but that would just muddle things up even more.  Bottom line – God orchestrates every movement into unexpected symphonies, no matter how painful the process has been…

And it has hurt.  A lot.  Still does.

Funny thing about hurt.  It’s like a chemical scrub – layers of things begin to peel off.  Things like defenses, assumptions, agendas – things you didn’t even know were there – until all that’s left is what’s real.  Being naked before God is not a pretty thing, no matter how spiritual you think you are.  I mean, this is where theory – and theology – has to become reality.  Can you trust God when there’s nothing else left to trust?  If I’m being real, I have to say it’s hard – real hard, because I like the things I can see and touch.  I like to know there is a visible cushion when I fall… and most days I feel like I’m in free fall without a parachute.  No matter how I try to distract myself from this realness, it’s just there.  And I’m unclothed of myself, waiting for Daddy to dress me.  

Do I trust Him?  Every day is a boots on the ground working out of that question.  I’m not writing a story – I’m in the middle of one, one more real than location… more real than stuff… 

I guess this is what I mean by “transition.”

Welcome to my world...

I have officially applied to the Procrastinators club – or plan to do so soon.  I was going to start this blog in September and now it’s…. well, not September.

I’m not sure why it’s so intimidating.  Good grief, I’ve been a writer since parchment and stylus were all the rage.  (Okay, that was an exaggeration…)  The point is I don’t know what it is about blogs.  Maybe it’s the feeling of talking to yourself in an empty room – I mean, is anyone out there actually reading this?  Or maybe it’s the fear that someone is reading – and judging.  Am I clever enough?  Am I clear enough?  Am good enough?  Blogs can be intimate or off-putting (yes, I used “off-putting” in a sentence…).  It’s a risk, but I’ve gotten this nagging sense that God wants me to do this, so… here I am. Here you are.  Here is my world.

I’m calling this little universe Muddlesville.  It is what it says it is… me trying to muddle my way through this new chapter of my life.  I may be erractic, random, funny, profound, or just plain “huh?” to those who dare to enter my world.  But that’s me… and you are welcome to join me in this silly, surprising, sometimes stumbling exploration of this land.

Welcome to Muddlesville…