{Let me first mention (and perhaps apologize for the fact?) that this post does not have a set direction to which it runs. No deep thoughts or point trying to be made…simply the ponderings of a very tired writer who considered either writing or taking a nap this afternoon. As you may observe, she opted for writing. The result of that choice is the follow ramblings. And in case you’re wondering, yes, the blogging break is finished. The ‘to-do’ list doesn’t quite concur with that, but I got sixteen out of nineteen things done, so we can call it good…right?}
The April showers have arrived. It’s a gray, rainy day. While others may be wishing for more spring time weather, I couldn’t be happier with the current grayness outside. It tends well toward a long, tired afternoon spent thinking through things I don’t understand.
It’s one of those days that being nine years old again sounds very pleasant. My biggest worries had to do with accomplishing a math lesson every day and having memory verses learned by Friday. Long afternoons were spent playing on the swing set with my seven-year old sister and discussing whatever seven and nine year olds discuss. Those were good days. Sometimes I wish I could revisit them.
But of course, I can’t. Larger ‘worries’ have come along. The math lessons have all long since been finished; school affairs run along the lines of writing a novel and preparing for graduation. Memory verses are no longer a task to be completed weekly—they’re a treasure to be stored away in my heart…riches from the King to be learned and meditated on. Even the swing sets have disappeared and those long afternoons are spent studying, catching up on correspondence, cleaning, and being part of a wonderful family (those enjoyable sisterly chats yet remain, though. Yay!).
I sat in the van observing people this afternoon as my mom ran an errand at the grocery store. There was the elderly couple loading groceries in the trunk of their car…slowly, as if there was nothing else in the world that needed any attention at the moment. They shut the trunk, pushed the cart to the cart return three parking spots away and buckled their seatbelts in a most leisurely manner. And there was the hurried lady in the teal colored mini-van who parked next to us. She talked excitedly on her cell phone while smoking a cigarette, drinking soda from a Quick Trip cup, and locating her purse from the empty seat beside her before disappearing into the store.
So many different people… so many different stories, different pasts, different joys, and different pains. So many people with one ultimate need—to know the Savior. What am I doing to meet that need?
It was easier when I was nine….thoughts of changing the world never once crossed my mind (only thing I worried about changing was the number of problems I missed on a math lesson)…but in the end I wouldn’t trade my life for days gone past. There may be concerns to be considered and work to be done now, trials to face and pain to endure. But there’s more. There’s a beautiful thing called peace in my life; there’s confidence of a God who holds every fragile life in His perfect plan. There’s an incomprehensible love that’s been shown to me through Christ’s death on the cross. The implications of that love are deep; how does one understand such a thing and live in light of it?
