Louisiana was spectacular. The love rekindling - the crawfish healing - the steady heartbeat of the people I love most - it was plush and comfortable and restful. Kinda like a Pottery Barn bed looks:
And even though I prayed - begged and begged God and myself - that it wouldn't be heartbreaking to leave. That I would be excited to come back to this life that IS good. The pain was still terribly present. Palpable, really. Not in the sea of sadness that usually happens the day that I leave - like a good drenching of the blues that you shake off in a day or two. This time the blues have fallen in a steady trickle - pooling up until they can no longer be contained, at which point I generally empty them onto The Hunk, who has been terribly gracious and understanding through it all.
The leaving and the loss have proved to be a fierce pair - the likes of whom I was not prepared to stand against. I have lost all sense of control in my life and the realization of it has thrown me into the crazies. What's funny is that I thought I'd gotten a little better with the whole control thing. Thought I'd reconciled myself with the fact that I am not in control of this life. The God of all creation is and that is enough. Apparently not for me. So I've been all floopty [do you understand what I mean when I say that?] And resistant to the steady hand reaching of Jesus. Until I had to go to church on Easter. It's a rule in our house, I guess. Anyway, I finally looked up at Jesus. Just looked at Him. Thought about Him. I fought the tears through the entire service...and at a all the wrong parts...which tells me that it was more about letting Jesus in than an emotional experience. And the peace was fantastic!
I realize that this is directly conflicting with my last post about having the peace and all. I'm not really sure how to put it in words...a peace was always there because I know that God always works things out. That He is faithful. I believe it because He has never failed me. There's peace in that. It's different when you FEEL peace. I felt peace when I finally looked at my Jesus.
Hebrews 12:3
Consider Jesus so you don't grow weary. [Emily paraphrase]
What helps when you're feelin' floopty?
I have the same feeling every time I leave my family. Jacob has to hold me until I stop sobbing like a baby and I remember that he is my new family and just as worthy. Its definitely tough, and I'm not nearly as far away from my family as you. But it's nice to know I'm not the only one who feels this way.
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