My prayer for this year has been for peace. After a tumultuous 2012, I very much desired a quiet, peaceful 2013. I was tired of being grown and stretched. I was tired of the upheaval.
Did God do amazing things through it all? Absolutely.
Did I feel a strong desire for that chaos to continue? Not so much.
And for the most part, this year HAS been one of peace. I've had time to settle into a mostly permanent living situation, I've hit my stride in my new job, I have a small circle of friends, and a church body that feels like family. It has been lovely.
But now that time of peace has come to a screeching halt. Nothing can bring things to a standstill like certain words from a doctor's mouth. And when it's someone you love, someone who has already had struggles aplenty in this life, the shock, surprise, heartbreak that comes with that news is truly life stopping. But we can't stop. That's the problem. When every inch of me simply wants to crawl under the covers with a bag of bbq potato chips and a Harry Potter book to hide from the situation, hide from the world, I am forced to continue to go through the motions. I have to go to work. I have to eat something besides potato chips. I can't cry in the middle of a brainstorming meeting at work. I can't live in pajama pants in a fort made of blankets and couch cushions. This defense mechanism wants to take me back to my childhood, back to those things that are safe and comfortable, when life consisted of Disney movies and playing dress-up and swinging in the backyard all afternoon. There were no worries, there was no heartache like I experience now. And if there was, I was blissfully unaware of it.
But as much as I want to barricade myself in my apartment with my books and my embroidery, I am reminded that "Losing your mind is not a luxury for the middle class." (from P.S. I Love You)
Nor is it an appropriate response for one who is a child of God.
My God is in control.
This is part of his plan.
This is the mantra I have to keep repeating.
Do I know why He has allowed this trial? No.
Do I have to know why? No. I would like to, but I don't have to.
I feel numb. But there's an ache behind the numbness. I feel sick. I find myself having to force a smile.
I don't know how to feel.
A problem with being an introvert is that we process internally, so it's all just spinning around in my head. I feel like I should be having an emotional response, but I haven't. Not yet at least. I'm sure it will come, and when it does it will be a torrent of tears and angry words. But until then, I'm still processing. And writing is part of that process for me. The quote at the top of my blog could not be more true. Even in the twenty minutes that I've sat down at this post, I've understood a little better what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling. I'm still processing. And I'm praying. And I'm thanking my God that He does not abandon me. Even when I feel angry towards Him. Even when I don't want to talk to Him, or read His word, He is there. And His arms will be open when I'm ready to rush into them again.
I don't want words of comfort or support right now. I just want to send these thoughts out into the void, knowing that they won't go unnoticed by the One who matters most. He is my Rock. My Strong Tower.
A storm is coming, it's begun to rain. I want to be secure in Him when the full force of the wind and lightening hits.
