I find myself wanting to know which trees fell, and how they fell, and what it all looks like. I wonder if it was that group of three that the kids used to call the castle. Flowers grew out of the base, in the spring. Wild orchids and some kind of blue flower that I never really identified.
It really is true, that you can't look back. And my pining for my little house in the woods is useless. Especially now. But there is a crazy lesson in here somewhere, about the finality of change, and the strength in looking forward and going on.
The most crushing accusation that can be made against me is that I wasn't listening. Listening to that small voice of God's- the one that I have been trying to follow for most of my life. It has been one step after the other, leaning in His direction. To be accused of disobedience is a weight on my shoulders that I almost haven't been able to bear. And it has happened, recently, these accusations. Many more people have been supportive than accusatory, let me say. But still, I feel as though I have been under a dark cloud. It has been heavy on me. I wish I had a thicker skin.
It is maybe just coincidence that immediately after I made that decision, to turn away from the hurt and into the new day, I got the news that there isn't even any reason to be looking backward. Because there is God! And he is saying that he really did put things into place the way they needed to be! And if it had happened any other way, ANY OTHER WAY, this could have been horribly tragic.
And I feel different. Something, some dark shameful thing, has slipped off of me. My world, the one where you pray, and believe, and then joyfully make your choices without fear, that world is falling back into place around me. I wish I was more certain, all the time, of what I know to be true. I wish I didn't need a reassurance of this magnitude. And I didn't really ask for it, but then it was there. I don't think it gets much more clear than that. Maybe one day I will be like the oak tree, here outside our house in Sacramento. The one that didn't fall.
And yes, we say thank you again and again and again and again. I should say, too, that I don't mean to say that we are invincible, or that suffering will not enter our lives. Everyone dies. But the timing is God's. I hope that if suffering comes to my life I can accept it, also.
On another note, last week this showed up on my porch.
A grey velor maternity hoodie from Carrien. Nothing could be cozier. I've worn it every day since I opened the box. I particularly like to wear it with my brown velor pants, and then when I'm tired I just roll up into a little ball and snuggle.