work & toil

i had a great conversation today with my new friend nathan.

and i'm thinking about a lot of the things he said, one in particular.

that maybe our past isn't in our past...it's in our future.

now, i'm sure i'll get the wording wrong and jumble it all around (i'm quite clumsy, you know) but i'd like to kind of think through that...

i'm thinking a lot about my aunt.

what she went through before she died.

we had the funeral last saturday...

i tried really hard to cry, but i couldn't.

i had too many questions and no way to have answers.

after the funeral my mom and aunt searched through her house for jewelry or anything expensive in the event that someone broke into the house.

it was as if she was still there.

i sat on her bed...looking around and wondering when she'd walk through the door.

her toothbrush and toothpaste were on the bathroom counter, ready to be used.

her bed was unmade.

her shower gel on the edge of the bathtub and shoes organized in the closet.

if nathan is right...if her past was actually in her future...then what did she see?

nothing?

is that why she gave up?

if we move and act and anticipate the future based upon the past...then what did she have to live for? when the past is so painful that we cannot imagine the future without the pain...

i'm so mad at her.

i want to forgive her...i keep saying i have.

i want to believe that this isn't her fault.

...that it isn't my fault.

there's nothing i could have done...got it, but where is God in all this?

i'm not mad at God...so all of you calm down.

i'm just wondering where God is for someone like my aunt that cannot see her future with even an ounce of hope.

i want to believe that maybe i could have had hope for her.

that i could have held her hand...could have given her a reason...

but i couldn't have.

i didn't have time.

i didn't have time to write thank you notes for birthday money.

to give her a call to say i'm sorry your husband left you on your birthday.

to visit her house by the river and wade in the water and play on the bank.

i didn't have time to tell her i loved her.

and now...i barely have time to mourn her death.

when i sat there at the funeral i tried so hard to think of her...

but i had things to do. people to see. places to be.

i had to fit it in...her death, burial, and mourning all in a neat package.

all fulfilled in a day's road trip.

but now i have time...i have time to miss her.

i have time to wonder.

and question.

and have no answers.

when do school and work and even church become more important than...life?

sometimes i want to run away.

i want to go somewhere...and i've told ryan that maybe i'll go to africa.

he thinks i could help and serve and do everything i could do in africa here...

but i couldn't.

there are too many people expecting too many things out of me.

and others around me have it worse...much worse off than i am.

i hurt for them...the ones that have an even harder time with the word 'no'.

when do they get to do life? when does the fear of waking up at 40 years old and realizing you truly haven't lived life become so great that we run away?

how far do i have to go?

when do we get to heal?

or talk?

or love?

or miss?

or forgive?

or believe?

maybe it is about making appointments and being intentional.

maybe this is part of growing up...the realization that life will not stop and i cannot run away from responsibility.

maybe this is me acting out of my selfish need.

maybe i put too many demands on myself and those around me.

maybe i need to find time and quit making excuses.

...maybe.

and maybe it's all bullshit.

maybe compartmentalizing my life like that is ridiculous.

maybe i don't have to live this way.

maybe all this stuff that i've been told is important...really isn't.

i miss her...and that's important.

and i want to feel that.

i want to remember her...and mourn her...and not try to fit it in.

it will find a way out.

God is important.

and i need to spend time with that.

or it will find a way out too.

sleep is important...

tomorrow will come early enough.