One of my sons has a very fluid concept of time, which must be very resilient in order to survive life with me. While I’m like “Did you say 4:12pm or 4:15pm?” BECAUSE IT MAKES A DIFFERENCE, he is under the impression that all things that have happened are in the category of “Yesterday” and all things that will happen are in “Tomorrow.” So even if this morning we went to the doctor, based on his emotional departure from that event, it was probably yesterday. And if he is seeing a picture of himself getting his first bath, that too was yesterday. So basically, it’s like he is from another planet.
This incorrect vernacular is a lot like grief.
Sometimes the yesterdays seem so far away like memories indistinguishable from photographs, and other mornings we wake up with our heels feeling the toes of what has been. The past can suddenly smash right up against the present like there was a wrinkle in time and it is tiring and it is real. I can be transported to the year one of my siblings began medicine indefinitely as I’m giving my own child his new indefinite dose and I am a wreck of compulsive web searching and ineffective self-soothing tactics. I can look at an empty eggshell blue dresser or a birth or adoption announcement and well up with tears a minute after thinking “I’m really at peace with our family right now.” Welcome to crazy town.
As our new realities have settled in the last four months since things were officially hopeless at clearing our name and things officially different with employment and schedule and things were officially undetermined with Asher’s seizures and prognosis, it is hard to not get swept up in the urgent, mindless chaos of it all. It’s hard to not give in and get numb and dodge all the feelings and disappointment and questions. It is hard to not get shifty-eyed around the yesterdays that haunt us.
More than ever I have been aware of the ways I distract myself from sitting and listening to the Lord. Meanwhile He has seen it fitting to give me many examples of people who do rest at His footstool and who don’t, and how those people are different–how what they are doing is different and how who they have become is different. I guess I am in a state of motivated reluctancy when it comes to mindfully subjecting myself to His presence (detect the rub?). Because the floors are dirty and an hour of work would be so productive right now and writing cannot happen any other time and coffee, no a nap, even a show, would be restful and help me face the rest of the day. While all these things are good, they fall short. They can all be grace, certainly. But when I engage them to delay the reality of my relationship with God, however awkward it feels at that moment, they are misplaced. And they don’t help with the grief at the end of the day and at the beginning of those days in which the past is giving the present flat tires.
When I do slow and sit, I find myself praying for courage to do so and to face Today, let alone Tomorrow. And I find myself crying. And also comforted. The last four months we have found ourselves in touch with a new level of our humanity and who better to comment on that than Creator, Sustainer, Triune God. They who help us distinguish between the false and true self.
There are so many effective ways to deny the Lord the mic. Tasks for Him, conferences, good spiritual books, deep conversation, Bible studies, heady writing, new nifty ways to organize Bible reading and prayer, list making, poetic journaling, even sermon podcasts and worship music. I’m seeing in my own life that never were these things stand-ins or stand-alones, and in our society in which time is of the essence, maybe I should be much more reluctant to engage these options if my own attentiveness to the Word and the Voice of Truth have not led me there in the first place.
Because probably too often I have participated in these things when my soul needed Him and my culture readily offered these as substitutes.
No one’s interested in legalistic ultimatums. I can’t even follow a meal plan. But today, I’m admitting and offering this: our grace-initiating God wants to lovingly handle both our yesterdays and our todays and I know I’ve been in danger of avoiding Him with both in the best possible ways. I’ve missed out on opportunities to have His company in my grief and face my humanity with the One who loves humans the most. This has made the todays too unpredictable, the yesterdays too unwieldy. And time keeps marching on.
Let’s put aside the highlighters. Take out our earbuds. Close the hardback books and wait to commit to that new great thing. Let’s sit and allow Him to quiet us. Hear our breathing, let down our shoulders. Let’s read the ancient text and withhold our own comments. Hold out our yesterdays and see Him today.
Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.