Life's Clutter

As I sit down to write for the first time in months, my head feels even more cluttered than my desk, so I just remedied the easier of the two messes. All that is left is the computer, the printer, my glass of milk and Jake's passy. It still feels too cluttered. My mind is so full... of life-altering questions, do to lists, tears, bursts of laughter, dreams of napping, concerns for friends, the jingles and sweet coos of my newborn in his play seat, the loudening "MAA!!" as Cas searches for me from room to room, no doubt seeking more raisins and another showing of Ratatouille. My main comfort is the storm blowing in this afternoon... I love that constant soaking sound. It reminds me that life goes on, and there will always be enough.

A friend has died of cervical cancer. She is my age and her younger son was due the same week as Cas. At her funeral last night, I kept staring at the 1975 on the front of the program. 1975. Surely this is not. Surely she is not already gone ahead of us. I could not even begin to comprehend... if it was me... not that I would ever think that would happen to me... but Marcy never thought it would happen to her! As I wrestle with a God who would allow such a thing, I am reminded of Billy Graham's response in times of incomprehensible loss - this is the greatest time to believe in Him, for surely having no God to turn to in such tragedy would be worse. Of course. And of course I still believe, and still trust, and still know that He IS good.

But seriously, this is messed up! For a while last night at the service I took the angle of someone who doesn't believe, and felt it foolish to blindly follow someone so powerful who does not reach down and share His power with us. I felt so weak, so frail, so... human. So in the dark. I felt the defeat of death. I felt afraid to think about the greatness of heaven, because I don't want to go there yet! I don't want my mind to be set on things above, because what if I have the chance to go, and in a moment of weakness (or strength) choose heaven over my family? I don't even want to ask myself what I want to be known for in life, because I should have many, many years to think about that... later. Usually death (not so) politely reminds me that life is short, and heaven is to be longed for, but this time I am trying to hold on to the length of it as hard as I can. I have never before had so much to lose on earth, I guess. I've never had three people who depend on me, who could not live without me. I don't want to set my heart on eternity. I'm fine right here!

But I cannot hold eternity back from my soul any more than I can refuse my child something to eat. It is there, stamped into my being since before my being, by the one who controls my days here and and there. My very breath reveals that the Breath of Life, who was and is and is to come, has given me today here, in Franklin, Tennessee. So tonight when Jay comes home, I will hold him tight.

The storm grows stronger; it has woken Cas, overwhelmed the yard, and prompted a tornado siren? Yum. Let's add a cup of hot tea. I stop to file my nails. This is good, good for my heart that is stretched in a hundred ways today. Ratatouille it is.

I still don't know where to go with this. Lord? A little help here? Maybe my desire to live in the moment IS the appropriate response for me. This season's days are usually uneventful, often monotonous. What a gift to long for them - to be grateful for another load of dishes waiting for me. Surely Marcy's boys would love to be standing next to their mother washing dishes today, the baby sitting on the open dishwasher door. I can't get past today in my mind, so I guess for now that is where I will stay.

Not a drop in the sky suddenly. I think I will cuddle up with Cas and enjoy the movie with him, soaking up all the happiness I can, hoping it doesn't pour out too quickly for me to swallow it whole.

I love being a mother and housewife. I love it.