Stopping and Re-starting

For a long time now, a very long time now, it has really felt as though the world was determined to wrestle me to the ground and pin me down. To some, this may sound dramatic. To some, it may seem like it was just a bad attitude, or not trying hard enough, or being lazy. None of this is true.

The last 3 to 4 years of my life have been fraught with difficulty. To be honest, it has been more difficulty than I thought or believed I would be able to withstand. By all accounts, when I look at life, I am truly not completely sure how I have survived. I do not say this to be melodramatic or to make it appear that I believe my life is somehow more difficult than other people's or that I do not know many people whose lives have been fraught with even more difficulty than mine. I only say this because, in my heart of hearts, it feels true. Several people within my life have confirmed that the things that have been endured in the past few years are fairly ridiculous all stacked up one right after another.

When I was newly married, if you would have asked me where I would be when I was nearing the age of 30, this place would not be it. There is no house. There are no children. There is a lot of school debt. There is a lot of hardship. There are no easy answers or perfect picket fences like I thought there might be.

What I have come to realize deep within myself is that I still do believe. I still do believe in a Triune God. I still do believe that God called the world 'good' and that God still deeply cares what happens on this planet and is involved in the many intricacies we all face. I still believe in a God of love. This God has been shown to me again and again through my deepest suffering, my horrifying anguish, my thousands of teardrops. There have been many times when I have wanted, desperately wanted, to just walk away from belief because it seemed easier to believe that there is no God than to believe some of the trite phrases people throw around that have no biblical basis.

I have been forced to change much of my theology when confronted with actual life. What looks nice and clear cut in a seminary classroom is not so logical and easy on the other side when you are on the ground barely able to breathe because your house is burning down in front of you and there is nothing you can do. You can't run inside and grab your beautiful quilts, the handmade artwork that you treasured from your husband, your picture of the little girl from Ecuador who changed your life. You can't force words to make sense when they come out of your mouth. 

Speechless, I have been. You cannot tie a pretty bow on suffering, especially when you have no bow and nothing seems pretty.

I am still speechless, but like a phoenix rising from the ashes I am starting to find a voice again. I am starting to believe that maybe life won't always be like this. If it continues to be like this, I have found that at least there is strength enough to handle it. Maybe. 

A job fell into my lap last week. I was approached about it, had the interview, and accepted a position all within less than a week. What seemed impossible somehow became possible. A job does not solve all of the problems and suffering of life. But...this small success, this small thing that was oh-so-easy-for-once, helps me to begin to have a mustard seed of faith again. 

Faith that life can be found. Faith that suffering is truly part of the road we all walk. Faith that maybe, just maybe, some of those dreams really will come true. Faith that, somewhere in this world our children exist. Faith that, someday, we will figure out the way to find them. Faith that the dreams will not look like I thought they would look 8 years ago, instead they will look better.

I have a small mustard seed of faith that the tapestry of my life may look bleak and be covered in colors I abhor. But if you look closely, really closely, the reds and oranges are starting to shine again. And that, my friends, is miraculous.