It’s happened

Some of you might not understand what I’m feeling, I think. Not at all to say that I’m unique, or that I’m set apart in my experiences and perspective. No.

I think I feel like I’ve joined the ranks.

Sometimes when I lie in my bed, in the dark, I start to remember faces and people, places where special things happened. I remember the sensation when you finally look someone in the face, and you understand them, and you like who they are; that singularly rare moment when your reservations about a person cease to matter. I suppose you might call it respect, or regard, but it goes deeper. For me it’s crossing over to joyfully putting them first, because their friendship is more important to you than being right.  And then those relationships grow and build into something that affects who you are, and they start changing you, moulding you, and you begin to change from what you were into something better.

I have a loyal heart, curse the touched thing. I know myself well enough to say that with complete freedom. I try to keep it from remembering all that has happened the past two years, because when it does it begins to ache, and I can barely stand it. Sometimes I am beside myself by how much it can hurt. I, the stoic, grounded, administrative young woman, who is flying off and leaving everything behind for what’s beyond the fence, am sentimental. There was a day this summer when all I could do was go to my bed, and curl up on it until my heart had it’s way, and pushed out its fill of tears.

And the thing is sometimes I feel like I’d rather they be tears of pain, because at least those are the kinds that can be dried.

I know what it is. As young as I am, I know understand how it feels to look back at all the glorious, beautiful moments in your life, and to know that they will never be back. I know what it is to miss someone, or something, or some place so intensely that something in your chest tightens unyielding and hard. The ‘vanity of life,’ and the brevity of our existence dilemma. The cosmos is crying out to its maker to make it well again, and I know that what my God has in store is far greater, and it’s perfectness far more vast than I can even imagine. But right now I can only know the good I have experienced and seen, and, quite frankly, it takes my breath away.

I have tasted a portion of God’s goodness, and it has brought me to my knees; I cannot fathom how I will be able to stand it all unpolluted in eternity.

So that’s what I think about when I turn out all the lights, and I lie in the dark alone, trapped in my reality of the life I can live in this body. I can only trust that all good things He put in my life were not in vain, and that He has something better. I know it sound silly, but the last time I felt this way was when my childhood cat died, and I knew I would never see him ever again. People, I was told, go to Heaven. But the placement of a pet’s soul is a tenuous subject that never offered me an answer. And that is what I fear now. That all those memories have died and are gone forever, and I will never have them back. In the blink of an eye my life will pass away.

But, after all is said and done, I thank my Lord with all my heart. That He has placed people in my life who provoked all these wistful feelings makes me feel blessed beyond measure. Every time I open a door, and the people on the other side exclaim, “Lucy!” I am torn between sincere joy , and bafflement at God’s goodness to me.

So there it all is. I hope all the people who have made me feel this way these past few months have a chance to read this, because I think they will know who they are in my story.

I can only hope that others can know what I feel, for themselves.


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