This is the day the Lord has made

I just saw a picture of my dad, and I started crying. I wasn't expecting that. His picture is in several places in our house. I see him everyday. The peace and relief of knowing that he is whole usually brings smiles to my face and joy to my heart. Today, those feelings remain, but tears roll down my cheeks.

It's hard to describe what this moment in my life feels like. I love change. I welcome it and look forward to what new, exciting, life-changing, heart-growing experiences God brings my way. But with that, comes fear. Fear and excitement are often linked together. It seems fear is often associated with negative emotions or circumstances. It is an emotion that should be avoided and/or corrected. In singing, fear is something that brings energy and focus. (Not sure if this is the case for all singers, musicians, or performers.) But, fear spikes the rush of adrenaline used to create the tension that audience members find engaging. How do singers perform an aria, song, or anthem with accuracy and intensity? Through excitement, technique, and adrenaline-inducing fear, singers walk on stage, perform, and exit leaving the audience feeling fulfilled.

That is the threshold where I stand. It feels so much more natural to walk onto a stage with all the unknowns, instability and uncertainties. Walking into tomorrow with those realities is not comfortable or natural. I suppose we all walk into our tomorrows not knowing. That is only too true for family and friends who were shocked into realities by the loss and tragedy of our own humanity and the injustice of this world. None of us know what tomorrow will bring, or, who tomorrow will take away. Standing on this threshold of fear and excitement leaves me speechless. I want the hope and promise tomorrow has to bring, but I am afraid of who won't be there. You see, I can do without my house, my tv's, my favorite foods, Fresh Market, and even my computer (which feels like my life's link or rather the link to life's escape). But, I am afraid to say goodbye to the people who are in my today.

I have moved from Indiana to Connecticut to New York to Illinois. In each of those states we have had multiple addresses. We have moved our "things", our "possessions", our "home". Friends have stood the test of time and location. There isn't a doubt in my mind that we will maintain the people who have impacted our lives. Even those who we may never speak with again, they will always be a part of who we are. But, in reality, I don't want to say goodbye yet. There are people that I can't imagine not having around. And though I know I don't get to control my tomorrows, leaving means the reality of saying goodbye is ever closer. I can cling to truths, and to promises. Knowing that people have loved us across borders and various time zones reassures me that friendships can be maintained and even thrive within a cyber world. But, on this threshold of tomorrow, I admit that I am afraid that some relationships will end the minute I turn to open the door to tomorrow. Forgive me for being sad or melodramatic. That isn't my intention.

I guess there is a part of me that is trying to convince myself this ok. It's ok to be sad, to be afraid, and to be confused with all the feelings I have. Lord knows I say that to my friends all the time. "It is ok to feel. You can judge it all you want. You can wish it away or pretend it isn't so. But, in the end you feel what you feel. There isn't a right or wrong." I don't want to let go, even though I know that tomorrow has the potential to be far more than today.

My dad is living that potential right now. He is living in freedom and joy. The tomorrow that we didn't want to come in saying goodbye to my dad did arrive. He is now living the tomorrow that we all wish we could have in the here and now. But for us, we are without him. It marks a time and place in our lives that hurts and forces us to adjust and accept a tomorrow that isn't what we hoped or prayed. Even though it is amazing and wonderful, full of everything we could only imagine for him; it leaves us feeling confused, sad, and lonely.

I hate goodbyes. There is just no getting around it. So today I will accept the fact that I don't want to let go yet. I will trust in the tomorrow that is waiting to bless me and my family. Tears, streaming through the delight and wonder of what tomorrow will bring, will honor the people that I have come to know and love. I love it that my dad is here for me. His presence is felt and his comfort is near in a way that I truly need at this moment.

Jamocha Almond Fudge

It has been since June 19th since I posted a blog. I can't believe it. So much has happened since then. Observations on various circumstances, situations, and relationships have scattered through my everyday thoughts, and I have written a number of blogs in my head. But, evidently, I haven't gotten them in print. Not sure my thoughts mean too much. Seems as though we each have to take the moments we are given and make sense of them. My observations and conclusions can't make your moments any easier or more understood. Certainly there is comfort in knowing that we are not alone. Often when I am writing, I am convinced that I am the only person who experiences the struggles of figuring out what life means or how to endure it. This is not true. We are all struggling.

Sometimes the struggle is like trying to get into a pair of jeans that are just a little too tight. I know I once could wear them comfortably. What happened? Did they shrink? Did someone change the tag on the inside when I wasn't looking? Maybe if I just hold my breath they will fit. Maybe if I go to the bathroom, I won't be as bloated and will ease right into them. Maybe if I drink 64 ounces of water I will need to use the restroom and I will be miraculously thinner. Though I am willing to do some things to become thinner in the process of getting my once comfortable jeans on, I am unwilling to accept that I have gained any weight that might be causing those jeans to be too tight. It is obviously a manufacturer's malfunction that has caused them to shrink and become uncomfortable; not an owner's dysfunction.

Then of course there are the struggles in life similar to deciding which ice-cream flavor I should get at Baskin Robbins. I can see the ice cream flavors displayed and described right in front of my very eyes. But, as I scan the options, the pressure mounts. What if I get rocky road, and it isn't exactly like my favorite brand that I get at the grocery store. I really like the other brand, so I will be disappointed if Baskin Robbin's doesn't meet my expectation. What if I get a favorite standbye, Jamocha Almond Fudge? It looks like it might be a little freezer burned. Does that mean people haven't been buying it and it's just been sitting in the freezer, being ignored and going to waste? What if I should go out on a limb and get the cotton candy surprise? I know, that sounds disgusting. I don't like cotton candy in its natural form, why would I like it in ice-cream form? But, what if I try it and it's delicious and my whole world is opened up to cotton candy again? Such a struggle.

It doesn't get any easier when I consider choices unrelated to food. Like, what book should I buy from Borders with my 50% off loyal customer bonus discount email offer? There are so many choices. I end up strolling the aisles looking from book cover to book cover. I add book after book to my basket, find a comfy chair in the corner, away from the aisle where people are strolling by dealing with their own personal struggles. Looking through the various cook books, self-help books, non-fiction psychology books, autobiographies, biographies, socio-economic studies, and mid-life crisis novels I realize the struggle is too intense, and I should go buy a delicious coffee drink at the strategically placed starbucks at the front of the store.

Some struggles are just too much to endure alone. Realizing this, I am convinced that I am not alone, and I most certainly should not endure the struggles alone. I know that everyone is enduring a struggle. As my friend Joy said earlier today, "We all have issues, and we all need tissues." But, just because we all have our own specific issues, challenges, and struggles; I know that there are friends that are willing to hear mine and endure it with me. No longer do I seek someone to solve the problem for me. I am sorry that there have been times when I looked for people to do that. How exhausting it must have been as I dumped my emotional garbage and expected them to clean it up. There are those friends, however, who can sift through the garbage and laugh, cry, scream, or kick it with me.

I am not sure which struggle best represents where I am lately. I know my pants don't fit, and therefore I shouldn't be at Baskin Robbins deciding between any ice-cream flavors. There is also an entire house needing to be packed, so I shouldn't have time to be perusing the aisles of Border's bookstore, even if I do have a great, super-duper 50% off coupon. Maybe my struggle is similar to many of yours. You know, the one where you are trying to love, forgive, and accept the people who God so generously has given to be a part of your moments. Or perhaps, my struggle is similar to the one that you might be having where you are trying to love, forgive, and accept yourself for who God so generously made you to be. Whichever struggle you find yourself in, I will pray for you the same prayer I pray for myself. May our jeans not be too tight, may our ice-cream be fresh and plentiful, and may we all receive a generous 50% off coupon to our favorite bookstore so we can buy a book that distracts us from the garbage that this world requires us to sift through together. Amen.