EVER THE ROAD GOES ON

Living the questions and trying to think theologically... and practically. Learning that these things are more synonymous than I once thought.

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Location: Dallas, TX

Friday, March 03, 2006

Hope to Carry On

Yesterday felt like Spring, and boy how I love the in between, non-extreme seasons of Spring and Fall. They draw me outdoors, and since my night class let out so early last night, I headed home, grabbed the ipod, and went out for a walk.

Yesterday was pretty rotten. I’ve kind of been in a funk lately, and yesterday I think it came to its head. It’s hard to describe a funk, but you sure know when you’re in one. I’ve been in one, for about three weeks. Last night during my walk, I think I realized why. The month of February came and went and brought no major crisis. There is still much grieving to be done, but for now it seems like the storms have passed. Yes this is cause for rejoicing, but at least once in every month since October, the bottom has continued to fall out a little more, and I’ve been living in crisis mode. Over these past few months, I think I found a lot of my purpose and use in crisis management. Now, I am kind of at a loss for what to do with myself.

Maybe the question that I can’t figure out is “How do you live in a new world, when you never thought yours would change, and when you miss the old one so much?” Maybe our best attempts at pastoral care and comforting are trying to find ways to help the grieving see that remnants of what we once found our solace and contentment in are still lingering around. Sometimes hope seems like a song whose lyrics you’ve forgotten. You know it exists and it is good, but your memory cannot do it justice. Then a friend comes along and helps you remember a line. Together you start to remember it more and more, and pretty soon you are singing and giggling.

I remember a preacher once saying he couldn’t imagine how life could get any better. I was struck by his obvious sincerity, but I couldn’t imagine that ever being the case in my life. Maybe things could be that good for really cool pastors with beautiful families, but not for a sad little seminary girl like me. After walking with him and his friends for about year, I was a believer. I learned exactly what he meant, and I could say with a sincerity of my own, “right on”.

I want to be able to say that again, and maybe one day we will, and maybe one day will come sooner than we think. Until then, I’m glad I have friends to help me remember the lines.

2 Comments:

Blogger Craig said...

"Sometimes hope seems like a song whose lyrics you’ve forgotten. You know it exists and it is good, but your memory cannot do it justice. Then a friend comes along and helps you remember a line. Together you start to remember it more and more, and pretty soon you are singing and giggling."

I've read a lot of words this week, and these are by far the most beautiful. So beautiful I'm about to quote you.

5:14 PM  
Anonymous John said...

Well they're shorter than your novels. :)

2:15 PM  

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