August 30, 2008
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welcome home
i wrote my first children’s story. hopefully the first of many. Karianne and i have decided that writing children’s books is the highest and nobelest calling.
i hadn’t realized what a miracle the International School was until recently. i rode the van to Timbauba, which drops off the kids to their homes. i had known that alot of them had alot of money, but dang. these houses were huge. walled in neighborhoods, maids, nannies, gardeners…we also have quite a few children on scholarship. children whose parents are in ministry and/or working their butts of–at least six days a week–to give their children something more.
And today, at the Parent/Teacher meeting, today these parents sit side by side. these men and women that if they passed each other in the street, one would not look down and the other would not look up to see the face of the other. Men who would never work together, women who would never socialize. They sit side by side today, and talk about their children–their children who are swinging side by side, playing and laughing and never noticing how much change is jingling in their pockets.
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Thursday night i fell apart. delayed reaction, i guess. Friday was a battle to talk to anyone. i ended up doing my responsibilities and then closing the door to my room. i hate closed doors. but i needed it. the thing is, i feel broken…so broken inside. some of it is just needing time to grieve. to say “it hurts, and that’s okay.” but there is also something more.so i read some from “Waking the Dead” (John Eldredge) the chapter on Deep Restoration. and then some of “A Grief Observed” (C.S.Lewis).
because it is like every time someone i love dies…it pulls off the same scab to the same wound which never really heals. and there was something else too–another wound, and another scab pulled off. the wound that hits me every time evil, wrong, ugly things happen. it just doesn’t seem fair. something is wrong about it…and then my resounding yell out to God “There is always going to be something, isn’t there?”
i want to be able to stare down the ugly evil things in the world and say “look at this–look at my Beautiful Jesus!”
but sometimes…
God: i don’t seem enough? i am enough.
Me: i know you are, but…
God: but what?
Me: i want more
God: more what?
Me: More of my way.oh. God? am i broken because i am stubborn enough to hold a grudge if you don’t play the game with my rules?
i guess i am.
I give up my rules. we are not even playing my game. You are the hero and i am Yours. Come in and set me free–heal me.
welcome home.Faramir: “What does the king command?”
Aragorn: “Walk no more in the shadows, but awake!”
Faramir: “I will my Lord, for who would lie idle when the king has returned?” –J.R.R.Tolkien, Return of the King
