Wal-mart is seeing more of me than I’d ever wish on anyone. And I can’t claim I’m enjoying putting the poor store through such misery, either. Mom and I took Nick in to work this morning, did a bit of shopping and price comparing, and came home in time for me to have a couple of hours at home before I turned around and headed back in to pick him up.
The discussion around the supper table included the date of Zach’s birthday—coming right up and deserving a special surprise. The sixteenth, Mom insisted. The twenty-first, Nick countered. “He said it was the nineteenth,” I contradicted, and won. My memory is hardly to be envied. I can peg birthdays when asked, recount conversations, describe outfits, hairdos and even list eye colors, but I can’t seem to remember to do simple tasks. And what we ate for supper last night is a mystery to me, even though I fixed it. Which means I might serve apples three meals in a row, if not reminded. I know I simple need to work on prioritizing my memory—setting mental alarms for important assigned tasks instead of clinging to random facts and figures. How do I organize this mass storage device into something truly useful?
My computer speakers are wafting the strains of the Lord of the Rings soundtrack—melancholy claims a large portion of the emotions in these pieces. My spirit responds to the sorrow, the huge feeling of loss. Somehow in my heart I can almost glimpse what Eden must have been like—in complete fellowship with God, walking with Him daily, sharing thoughts, learning His ways, in innocence, joy and purity. Here that fellowship is shattered, broken, restored to a dim reality by Jesus, but the longing for full fellowship overwhelms me, bittersweet. I long to hide from the battles facing me, the decisions awaiting me, the pain and scars that come from living in a broken world. I long to flee the reality of what I have been called to do: sacrifice my life, war against principalities who hate me with a hatred that shrivels my flesh, and desperately, relentlessly seek the Way the Truth and the Life. Only can I triumph through the power of the eternal God. Only can I hope through the truth of His resurrection, that promises to me a share in His victory. Only through His righteousness can this fallen world ever be redeemed.
Lord, helpless e’en to seek Thy face
I cling to Thy redeeming grace.
Awash in my unworthiness,
Who am I that Thou should bless?
But Thou dost bless with life in Thee
That stretches to eternity,
This gift, Thou would forget to send
Only could Thy own life end.
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