Acceptance

When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly, ‘Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night be too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.’

I’m not in the depths of despair. Things have been worse. But I am sitting here without an idea of what comes next and I’m sick to my stomach on adrenalin. I have to be strong for little people around me and I’m not feelin’ so strong. Currently, I’m powerless, which while we like to say “God is the one always in control” is not always to say “we have no power”. Most of the time we have some say in what choices we make or what we’re going to do in a given situation. That power is what Living Deliberately is all about. This is a time when, for the most part, that power is not in my possession and I “get” that. Being human though, I tend to crave some relief.

I liked your line about the ocean. I’ll remember that.

For me, all I can do is wait and pray.

That’s a pretty good place to be really, even if the world seems to be falling apart. Tell me, who provided this house? Who provided a job to even make a move to said house possible? Is it Tia’s job to make everything to fall into place?

It’s strange to say but I think the attitude needs adjusting. If you’re stressed to the breaking point you need to step back. I get there all the time and sooner or later God shows up and goes “So, what’s going on? You seem stressed. Are you worried about what I’m doing for you?” and all I can do is chuckle and go “Yeah, I was but I have no idea why.” You’d think I’d know better by now. I seem to recall some parents of yours who were facing eviction and had literally no place to live. I had a wife who called bawling about it. All I could do was laugh. Not because it was funny but because everyone was worried about what seemed to be a hopeless situation. As if we were the end of the world and people were going “Is God really going to sleep through this storm?”

Things don’t get this bad without a reason. but I have a hunch there’s a whisper somewhere in your mind that’s going “Hey, chill out. I have it under control. Now sit back and watch while I do the impossible. It’s my specialty after all.” It’s times like these where God says “Hey ocean, you’re in my way. Move.”