I know the words on the image seem harsh. I am sorry for that. Would it help if I told you that you can blame God for them? I didn’t set out to write that. At all. I wrote the first part, because it is where I am: struggling with control. My world feels chaotic. I miss my son. The one he was before he left for the military. I don’t know if he changed because of the Army, if he was always this guy (two word responses, not responsive, not great at communicating) if he just doesn’t much love me any more (sorry, the hurt gets messy sometimes) or if this is him, as a man, and I just missed the transformation because with the military, well, he wasn’t here. Anyway, it causes a strangeness in me. I fight it but..not well. So instead I fight to control. I fight to make sense of what is, honestly, lots of nonsense in my life. Or maybe, for you, it’s the holiday season. Or a crazy workplace. Or fervent prayers that seem unheard. Sometimes, I fight God. I wrestle with Him. I want to know why He doesn’t answer prayers my way, or line things up in my order.
So, anyway..the image..
I was writing something along the lines of.. “is a day spent, not becoming the person you were meant to be..” which is truth, too. I am not who I was designed to be when I am focused on all that junk I can’t control. But I couldn’t write it well. I couldn’t make the sentence flow. When I backspaced the final time, I felt the words immediately. And I cringed. And I thought “I can’t write that!” And I am pretty sure God said “Why? Because it’s uncomfortably true?”
Me ((shrugging sheepishly)) “Maybe.”
We don’t want to be reminded, in our craziest, moody, angry, self-focused, ugly-faced moments..that life is fragile. But it is. And if we stop every day and take a moment to consider that life is fragile and fleeting, would it change our hearts? Cease our striving to control? Calm the storm of chaos? Maybe.