Yesterday I unexpectedly found myself by a lone bench on an empty oceanfront. A boat was just off the shore, solitary but securely anchored in the sea. I ached with the unexpected beauty, the symbolic solitude of the boat. I felt like this boat. Alone, aching, but securely anchored. As I stood there, I thought about the last two months and how a crisis can set off a whole new cycle of grief and loss.
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My strong-willed daughter turned two and I braced myself, expecting increasing challenges in her behavior. However, Zoe sailed through that year with a lively curiosity and mostly content demeanor. That wasn’t so bad, I reflected to my husband as her birthday approached. What’s the big deal with the ‘terrible twos’? Then she turned three.
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I sat in the break room after the going away party the staff threw in my honor before I moved to my new home in the Central Valley, reading my bon-voyage cards and having another cupcake. Debbie, from the billing department, came in to chat. She said, “You are so bubbly. Where does your joy come from?”
It was a perfect time to share where my joy comes from, but the craziest words came out of my mouth! I said something like, “I’m just lucky, I guess! It must be in my genes. My mother is pretty upbeat!” What was THAT?
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Long ago, a friend explained to me that a negative situation needs to have a skeleton to make sense. No, my friend wasn't talking about the skeleton in my closet. He meant that people will grab onto whatever information is available, whether true or false, to make sense of something they don't understand.
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One evening I was quietly considering the news concerning Covid-19 when a still small voice asked, "Are you ready to die in two weeks?" I was startled and puzzled by the question and checked off some crucial things in my life:
I am a follower of Jesus Christ, who died a sacrificial death to redeem me from my sins. He was crucified, resurrected on the third day, revealed himself to over 500, ascended into Heaven and now sits at the right hand of God. Through faith in Christ, Heaven is my destination when this life ceases.
I have a will, a trust, and a long list of who gets what.
We filed our taxes.
When the kids clean out the garage, they will often say, "What was Mother thinking when she bought this?" That is the summer task that I may or may not get to finish.
So, yes, I guess I'm ready to die if the Lord calls me.
Considering that I am "of the age" not to survive this new scourge hitting the world, it is a good question for the Holy Spirit to ask. How about you? Are you ready to die in two weeks? What does your list cover?
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