Just Writing

When you lose something very dear to you-- a person, an idea, a place, an experience, a faith-- it leaves behind (even after "healing) a narrow, deep chasm that you occasionally fall back into. There's no predicting what might precipitate this. A song, a smell, and turn of phrase, an email, a glimpse of someone you think you know in a crowded mall.... Perhaps even simply a quiet evening where your mind, free for the moment from more pressing and immediate concerns, turns a little aside from the daily routines and begins to wander down unfamiliar paths. And then suddenly you find yourself back There. And you feel the ground drop from under your feet and the memories, despair, disappointment come crowding back and the security of daily life and comforts seems hollow, false. And there you are, fingertips clutching at the brink, James Bond-esque.

You might just hang there for a moment, fingers scrabbling at the edge for the solid ground you know was there just a moment ago. You might breathe deeply, smelling the familiar smells of bed and home. You might slowly get a hand, then an elbow-- one, then the other-- up onto your church, your friends, your husband, your beautiful children, the things you still have-- the More, the Now. Now you're on your hands and knees, looking back. Danger passed. You stand up, shake yourself off, square your shoulders, smile, call someone, write an email or a blog post and on you go.

By God's Grace.
Finish the race.







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