just be with me

over the past few months, i've begun to learn the power of emotional presence.  i've been shocked at what a powerful thing it is to truly be there for someone, to be willing to be "in it" with them, whatever "it" is.  the difficult truth about life is, it's supposed to be hard.  sometimes we just can't fix whatever feels broken.  sometimes we don't even know what's broken.  but in the darkness, feeling your hand encompassed by the hand of a friend is the most comforting thing in the world.  and that friend isn't even trying to comfort you.  he's just there.

heavy clouds but no rain

this title describes the weather today.  it also describes how i often feel.  my body, dying to break into sobs, but some invisible thing keeping me composed. . . and miserable.  so i count my little tears as blessings when they fall.  i shed two yesterday when i lost something and looked and looked and then prayed and looked some more and still couldn't find it.  at that moment, i was so upset, but dry as a desert.  i wondered how anxious i would have to feel, how terrible it would have to get, before God would have pity on me.  i prayed some more, feeling so pitiful before Him.  then i got up and walked right over to my missing object.  that was when the two tears fell.  i'd almost convinced myself He didn't care.

today one more slipped out.  it was because my sister loves me.  i woke up feeling sick to my stomach, and  couldn't shake it all day.  my sister had been sick this week, too, so i called her to see how she was doing.  i had wanted to offer to take her kids the other day, but hadn't been brave enough.  (her little boys are very active, and my house is only girl-proof.)  but she didn't lack for courage when she found out i felt crummy.  she showed up and loaded up my two little ones, and drove off with five kids aged four and under like it was no big deal.  brave?  that and so much more.  i felt so loved.  enough for it to rain just a little.

working definitions

patience. not, perhaps, always suffering in silence, or sparing other the knowledge of your trials or emotions, although maybe sometimes, since Christ went as a lamb to the slaughter and opened not His mouth.
                maybe. . . not getting mad at God for letting you suffer.
                maybe. . . trusting Him enough to know that your trials will be for your good and He is trying to make you fit for heaven.
               maybe. . . not trying to snap people out of their suffering, but being willing to be with them in that moment, offering empathy, if possible, or just your presence, if not.
               maybe. . . accepting mortality and imperfection, knowing they will not be our final states.  keeping the goal of walking with the Savior instead of perfecting ourselves in order to receive his grace.
               maybe. . . receiving his grace now.

hope. not, perhaps, always wearing a smile or saying, "it's okay," "i'm okay."
           not, perhaps, just passively "hoping" that things will turn out.
          maybe. . . trusting that things will turn out, not how you want them to, but how God wants them to, if you can trust his vision of the future.
          maybe. . . being willing to suffer now in the hope, or faith, of a better world.
          not, perhaps, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, but taking a peek through God's spectacles and forgetting what exactly you saw, but trusting the memory.

love. being willing to suffer, to lose, to risk everything dear.
         being willing to sacrifice.
         being willing to be emotionally present and available at all times, especially when it may be inconvenient, or when it may cost you.
         favoring relationships over emotional homeostasis.
         prizing people over an absence of pain or grief.

on pain

". . . When pain is to be borne, a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more than all." (C.S.Lewis, The Problem of Pain, Preface.)