When You Must Go Where You do not Want to Go
Here I go. A sort of unexpected trip home. I was planning for Christmas. God was planning for now. I was currently on a trip. So my family didn’t tell until I came home that Mom — well I should come home sooner.
When they don’t tell you because you are having a good time on a trip.
Let that sit for a second.
So I pray in front of Expedia on my desktop. “Lord, when?”
Did I hear that right? Was that real? Or just … me? Now like… now now? Or now like it’ll be okay in a couple of weeks now?
I’ll try one more time. “Lord…”
Now costs a minimum of 736.00 and the airlines care not for these kinds of emergencies. And it’s the holidays and crowds and … the world.
I’m leaving Friday. Dave Ramsey will have to understand. This is why I’m supposed to have that emergency fund. Sigh.
I pray more. I cry. Don’t know what to expect. Mom is up and down in and around. The more and more I think on that one miraculous occasion of a phone call… I wish I’d stayed on the phone with her … forever.
She’s still with us. Don’t go all dramatic. It’s in my nature. Mom raised me.
So off I go again. Taking Mary with me. She’ll know what to do. But will I take my trust, my wisdom… will I be a grown-up because every stinkin’ moment of this makes me feel like a 5 year old.
I just want my mommy.
Do we all just want our Mommies at the end of the day? Tucking us in; kisses all over the face. Just a whisper away at every moment with that tiny little glass of water we don’t need but ask for so we can stay up just a few more minutes?
I don’t have children. I’m no one’s Mommy. So now what. I guess it’s unfair not to mention I have taught for the last 8 years anywhere between 45 and 165 children per week music. Does that count?
I believe this. I really do. It’s been with me for so long and I’ve been hearing it more intensely in the past few weeks. God is talking.
Mom has been asking about her Mother. “Now, where is my mother? I don’t remember where she is.”
She looks at photo albums with my sister. She sees a picture of her and her sister along with myself and my mother, Annie. She points to her sister and begins to cry.
“Are you sad?” She nods. “Because she’s not here anymore?” She nods. Our Aunt Mary Lee only passed away 4 months ago. We had to tell Mom just two days after she moved into the home.
“Mom and Mary Lee came to me, she confides, they keep asking me to do something but I can’t remember what.”
The mysteries behind the veil.
What do you do when you think that the trip you’re about to take might be the most, the hardest, most defining trip of your life so far? I suppose this is where Jesus would say, “Yeah tell me about it.”
You gird your loins
Armor up Ephesians style
Lean into love
Speak, eat, sleep
so much love