A lackluster open to a new year. Take a year of political unrest, quarantine and separated holidays; with my mother’s rapidly fading memories and being separated from love ones makes for a difficult season. As the year slowly ground to an end, my mother contracted a virus and re-joined my father in heaven on their 63rd anniversary. A poetic and peaceful end to a life well lived. Yet knowing she is where she always dreamed of being does not soften the feeling of loss. An already weary heart crossed a line into simply numb.
A bevy of “need-to”s, “have-to”s and “want-to”s I normally juggle with the skill of a circus clown on a unicycle, now stand in a socially distanced line waiting their turn as I struggle to focus on one ball, in one hand; no tossing, no spinning, no juggling.
Stumbling through the fog of apathy trying to remain upright by my supposed intellect, a tender whisper echoes, “This is the time to lean not on your own understanding”. Good thing because my understanding cannot hold its own weight, let alone mine.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6
A welcome direction instead of walking in circles just leaning.
Is my current condition deep-seeded mourning that I try to explain away? Can a heart be broken and rejoice at the same time? Our ability to cry and love through difficult situations would suggest it.
“Lean not on your own understanding.”
Trust in the Lord.”
Amen.
Be Blessed in Great Measure
