I'm at work. Again. This is day 7 of early mornings and I'm tired and stupid. So I will do my best to get my head realigned. On one hand I wish (in a way) that I could be pining away over not being able to go to church, of missing my 'big' family, of missing out on worship. But I'm not. I've never been one to believe that worship was done in church. Worship should be done with every breath I take, regardless of where I sit, stand or play. It should. But honestly, the thought of church right now tires me out. In another life (previous to my WOOHOO years), I used to do a lot of speaking at youth functions. I ran youth groups and all nighters (not the other all-nighters) and capture the flag and back-packing treks (the real kind - not the 'oooh look, there's an outlet in the tree for my straightener). I used to do a lot and everything revolved around the church. But now, well now there's a weakness in me that gets tired when I think about it. I'm outgoing and strong and will talk to everyone, but then 90% of everyone wants to tag me as their best friend. And frankly, there's a lot of needy people out there. And oh how they love me. Selfish(!) you say? Absolutley. But I don't need to be everyone's best friend. I've no problem with hanging out and listening for days on end, but please don't expect me to carry you through. That's why you got saved, reborn, delivered. There are Bigger Hands out there than mine and I'm not strong enough to piggy back you. I'll pray for you, so don't ever hesitate to ask. But I won't lead you through the Valley, simply because I'm searching for the same light that you should be. It's funny, because I'm only 29, turning 30 in the spring. I used to think that I was so young until the doctor diagnosed me in the beginning stages of cervical cancer and found a lump in my left breast - and proceed to say 'when women reach your age...'. I used to think that I had all the time in the world to fart around, move away (again) and get 'it' right when I settled into a new town that never knew me. I used to. I remember the day I came home from my doctor's appointment and looked at my mom. She took the rest of the day off and we just cried. We cried all afternoon. And it was good. I moved away when I was 19 and I had few opportunities to be absolutely rock-bottom raw with my mom. Actually, I think 'few' is more in line with 'never'. And we cried. I didn't sniff, I didn't just drip, it was the 'something broke inside of me and it will never heal' kind of cry. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking 'huh'. Five hours ago I was perfectly healthy and everything was a-ok. Five hours ago I was drinking coffee and planning my day and getting ready for the weekend. Five hours ago I was completely oblivious to things that would change my life for ever. It was interesting to see how it affected (effected?) the men in my life. My brother is 8 years older than me and we never really started to know one another until about 5 years ago. And then we got close. He thought about it a lot because he hugged me more and asked a lot of questions. Usually he's the fellow that says 'oh yeah' or 'ok'. But he asked. He asked me everything I knew or didn't know and he searched out himself. My sister was living, walking strength. My mom wanted to fix it. My dad went quiet. I'm like my dad in the way that I go quiet when something's on my brain - something that needs sorting out and can't be done with any sort of language. More along the lines of "a coming to terms with". And he prayed. And they all prayed. Even my best friend, who doesn't believe, prayed. She said "don't you ever hang this over my head, but I put your name out on a few prayer boards". And we cried. G - I love you for that for always, because once again, you went outside of yourself to answer the need of someone else. You always do that. I hope I don't ever let you down. I think that's what God does - He strips away and takes us outside of ourselves. Outside of the us that we so candidly 'know' but actually don't know, but still embrace. He takes us down to brass tacks. So I went for more tests. After what seemd like removing my insides with a small utensil, I was to sit and wait for more tests. The lump wasn't as distinct as they had initially thought and after sending more tests results to a few different labs, I became (the 29 yr old) miracle baby of my province. I had been ranked in the top five for developing cervical cancer in my province. And I came back free and clear without an a-typical cell to be found. Nobody died. Except for that Guy on the cross. I go in now every 4-6 mos to get retested. It seems like a despicably small price. But I'll take it.
You may not relate to me. You may not comprehend the WOOHOO years or the poor choices or the times that I sit and grin, because some of those poor choices really were fun. But I'm not asking you to. I'm not asking you to put yourself in my shoes or accept or regret anything or everything I've done. But what I am saying is that I'm not the only one out there. Keep in mind that the Lord loves His children, whether we love Him back or not. So don't go like you know it all. None of us do. And one day you may come face to face with another version of me that needs your love and your prayers. Needs to start over and be stripped away and put on the stage of scrutiny. Remember your humanness because the reality is, we're all pretty weak.
"Give us today our daily bread..." Matt 6:11