I SO did not realise that until just now. I opened my WordPress dashboard determined to write something, but not knowing what. Because you know that the best things always happen when you don’t have a plan. ::scoff::
So many things have happened lately that I’m bewildered, frankly. I told my husband a couple of days ago that the past few weeks have seemed as though I’ve been living in a book by Dickens and I’ve now reached the end. I don’t mean the end of my life, per se, but the end of maybe Book I of the trilogy. If I had to name the best part of my Christian walk, outside of the whole Grace and Mercy thing, I’d have to say that it’s as though God feels free to clue me in on why the stuff that happens to me actually takes place. You know how when something craptabulous happens and you’re all like “well, there must be a reason for it”? The best thing about my relationship with God is that I’m able to see or sense the reason. Sometimes it’s not until years later, but it always happens. Right now I’m in a phase where I’m seeing very clearly how things that happened over the last 10 years have shaped what’s happening now in a good way. It’s not that everything’s falling into place, because I’m still riddled with RA, crippled by endometriosis and several pounds heavier than society’s preferred norm. But I can see the why of it all, and that sure helps. I credit God with that.
You know, I know what Chuck Colson said about Christians and their pets and how we shouldn’t revere our animals because it isn’t Christian. I think I shake my head in sorrow for Colson about three times a day now. When you leave a pet in a kennel or with a sitter you’re always supposed to leave something that smells like you–an old sock, a t-shirt you’ve slept in–so they sense your presence even when you are not able to touch them. The way I see it, our pets are like the old socks or the t-shirt that God slept in that God’s left with us so we can sense his love and comfort even though we can’t touch him.
I’m still dealing with Casey being gone,and it still hurts. I’m often bewildered to think of how my family will never be the same, but at the same time I’m fascinated by the way we move on and toward the end when all will be made perfectly clear.
And the best thing about reading your work, ma’am, is that the good Lord works through you to help some of the rest of us understand His reasons. We are always grateful to you for being that conduit and sharing that gift, and we’re so glad that doing so helps you as well.
Your analogy is clearly inspired by the one who inspires us all. Thank you.
Russert died on Fri 13, because he was fat.