I have been home sick for a week now and I am not a good patient. Watching hours of mindless T.V., cruising Pinterest and Facebook, or watching old movies can only occupy me for so long. I've been going out of my mind with boredom. Last night, I was so desperate that I found myself watching "The World's Worst Tattoos". That was a low moment. Anyway, I have also been reading whenever I felt like it but I have been reading my standard trashy murder mystery/detective stories. I decided, yesterday, that I might benefit from reading something a little more challenging and uplifting. A friend recommended that I read, "Same Kind of Different As Me". I had actually bought the book a long time ago but had never read it. Seemed like a perfect idea so I jumped right in and started the book. It was immediately captivating and I was enjoying it immensely. It's the story of a rich white guy and a homeless black man who are brought together by the white guy's wife (who is an amazing woman). Things were going along great, I was into the book, it was taking my mind off my confinement, and I was learning some stuff too. All good, right? Well, then I came to the part in the book where the white guy had an affair with a 19 year old woman. He confessed, under duress, and his wife called the girl, told her she forgave her and didn't blame her, and then told her husband that she forgave him and she'd commit to saving the marriage. I set the book aside.
Still determined to not resort to violence in my literary endeavors, I switched to Joyce Langdorf's, "Mourning Song". This is a book about grief. Now you might think this an odd choice for me to turn to after abandoning the previous book. But I had been wanting to read it again because I was curious about exactly where I might be in the process of grieving for my marriage. Two things struck me as I skimmed through the book. The first thing was that Joyce Langdorf was so dedicated to her mother during the process of her death. I immediately began to have doubts and regrets about how I had handled things during my mom's protracted illness and dying. Secondly, regarding my marriage (actually, the lack of a marriage), I had thought I had reached the "acceptance" stage but as I read, it began to look more like I was in the stage that usually preceded acceptance and that was labeled..."depression". I set the book aside.
Now, I could spend a lot of time explaining the differences in how my husband responded to his infidelity, what I experienced and felt during my mom's dying, etc. And now would be a good time for some profound insight that God gave me. In fact, after setting the second book aside, I literally turned to God and said, "Lord! What? What are You telling me?" The truth of the matter is that I got nothing! I went back to the first book today and finished it. It is a really good book and I would recommend it. I'm still not sure what God is saying to me. I do have a few tentative thoughts though.
I'm very up and down. Sometimes I seem really tuned into God and other times I don't seem to hear Him at all. How much I hear Him, or, better yet, how well I listen to Him, is affected by how regularly I talk to Him, read His Word, etc. Duh...I mean that should be a given and at 60 years of age, I know that. However, I'm still irregular in my communication with Him. Secondly, I may not know what He is trying to tell me today, but I will. And I'm confident of that. I didn't used to feel that way but I know He'll never leave me completely in the dark. My life here on earth seems to be on a "need to know" basis and I need to be O.K. with that. In fact, I actually feel almost excited. I feel like I'm on the cusp of discovering something - maybe just a small little truth - but a truth nonetheless, that will move me forward a bit. I've been in a "dry" spot. I thought I was accepting my new "single" status because I wasn't crying anymore about you-know-who but honestly, I think I've just been temporarily shut down. Maybe that's why I zeroed in on "depression" in the second book. Joyce Langdorf talks about the "apathy of grief". I think that's a good description of what I've been feeling. Apathy. I have loved and cared deeply and now I'm tired. But as I'm pondering all this, I think, "that's o.k.". It's all a process and I'm getting there. I'm honestly not discouraged. I have no idea what my future holds and I totally know that I need to get much less "irregular" about spending time with God. I say that I know He hasn't abandoned me. I say that I know He's in charge. I say that I trust Him. I say that I'm not angry with Him. I need to put my money where my mouth is. And maybe that's my message for today.
While I think about that, I'm going back to my murder mystery...
Debbie, Thanks for sharing. Though we may not be in the exact same place in life, we are in many ways. Seeking God! Hence; the title of your first book! Same kind of different as me! Love that title. Read into it many other meanings. Sometimes, I feel so close that I almost seem to feel HIS breath down the back of my neck and then at other times in my life, it feels as if HE is no where to be found. But as you pointed out, it's all a process and remembering to stick to it! Thanks for the reminder!
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