Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Sometimes you reach a personal point of Life where it shows whether you've done your homework--or ignored it.... whether you've cooperated with God or fought Him on every change He asked you to make... whether you've learned to walk in peace no matter how wild your circumstances--or not.
I am currently at one of those points. Let's just say I'm getting awfully used to walking on water--so to speak.
I am living in a house which is for sale, one I no longer see as my own. And although I'm sure we'll be moving out of state, at this moment, I'm not certain just which state that will be (yesterday we discussed North Carolina). And yesterday we also decided to sell nearly every piece of our Craftsman furniture so that we can start over with a 'whole new old look', since we'd like to buy old furniture, stuff I could paint if I wished. And then there's the thing of having no idea just when we'll be moving away or just when our house will sell or what kind of house we will buy(or when we should buy it).
And yesterday, too, I received word that my dad is again back in the hospital, one in Oregon this time, having had a heart attack (they think) and just basically not doing well. My sister says I should come out there, but since Tom just returned from California dealing with his own family matters, most likely I'd have to travel those 2,700 miles alone. I asked Tom to piece together a train travel package for me so we can know the costs and details just in case. And yes, I could fly, but 1.) I hate flying, even in happy times. 2.) The nearest major airport is hundreds of miles away from both my parents' house and the Oregon hospital . 3.) I'd have to rent a car and drive hundreds of strange miles alone (me?), something which I don't see as wisdom, and well, I try always to live according to wisdom.
Add to that a dozen more complications which I'm sparing you.
I'd like a train trip alone, though. I think. I'd enjoy sitting pensively, staring out windows for days at farmland and just meditating, dreaming, remembering. Right now that sounds tempting. But Tom is nervous about my traveling alone, not to mention we've planned to take a train trip together for, oh, twenty years. Perhaps he could take additional time off from work because of the circumstances, but the best time to go would be in a month during his next long stretch of days off. Yet with the reports I get from my sister, sometimes I wonder if my dad even has a month left.
So around and around and around we go. Tom and I talk all this over until we come right back to the beginning where it all looks and feels impossible. And then we just sigh, usually in exasperation with each other.
I comfort myself with the knowledge that thousands of other people around my age face similar circumstances--and worse-- all the time. It comes with the territory--with being in middle-life and needing to make changes, being part of a family, being alive.
And not only is it showing whether I've done my homework--whether I've learned to stay in peace in hard, uncertain times--but I'm being reminded of my weaknesses. Oh my, am I ever. How we all have them. But that's a good thing because I also take comfort that God isn't in Heaven all surprised and condemning-browed because some days I flounder... and some days my weaknesses rear their smoking, ugly heads. No, He's known me such a long time, is acquainted with me inside, outside, upside-down, and will love me through all of this, even if no one else understands or approves of the choices I finally make.
Of that, I'm sure.