Wait For Me

Spending three days at the Richmond Elementary library was a gift from God to me. I have been so busy lately over my head in projects that I have taken no time whatsoever to sit with God. Of course there is the time at church but meeting is rarely when I go deep. And not that I went deep at Richmond either, but it was a time to slow down, take a deep breath, and regain some perspective. The friend I was helping is someone who has been to those deep places with me repeatedly, someone who's voice was steady when mine was screaming, who helped me find the strength in myself when I couldn't see anything to hold on to. It was a fun and calming time to help her and to hear how she's doing. I didn't realize it at the time but with the editorial board meeting starting this week, I needed that calm sky, that time to just lay back on the hill and gaze up at the stars. I needed to know they are there.

At the same time, I have been driving the rental car until mine gets fixed and it has a CD player. Having recently come across some particular CD's of mine, I put them in my bag to listen to in the car. Two of the CD's are talks by William P. Young, author of "The Shack". If you haven't read it, I can't recommend this book enough. It's one of my favorites. Being a Portland author, I've heard him speak and I learned a lot. These talks, though I did not hear them in person have deeply moved me. On one CD is the question and answer time, on the other is him telling his story, the story of metaphorically going through his own shack. Paul, as he is more commonly known, knows what it is like to be on your knees utterly naked before God and utterly dependent no matter what his reaction is because you know you have got no place else to go. He knows what it's like to have nothing left inside, to struggle though that, and then to find life on the other side.

Hearing him talk about his experiences dropped me right back into my own as if I had just been pushed over a cliff into the deep waters of the sea. But this time, though the ocean closes in over my head, it's a welcome sensation, a familiar place that to me, has become so much truer than anything else I know. It's like hearing music, the melody of my heartbeat, the drum beat marking my steps, the life-force within me I had let go of along the way. And now I want to shout, "I'm coming! I'm coming home! Wait for me. I'll be there. Keep the light on for me, I'm on my way Papa!" It's like placing my hand on the door and having Papa burst through shouting my name.

365-09 #103