They say often that there is no proof of God, and perhaps that’s true from the mathematical definition of the term. But Ive lived a life surrounded by and buoyed by The God Who Is There. I don’t hear voices or see angels in trees–thankfully–but all the same there is evidence of that Creator. The evidence isn’t in the number of footprints on the beach. It’s in the grains of sand. The myriad ways both minute and gigantic that the whim and touch of a God who loves us are forever turning a hard substance like silica into a soft cushion we can traverse safely.
Tuesday was a bad day for me. It wasn’t especially catastrophic in a headline grabbing way. It was just very bad in the no good very bad horrible day way that most people get sometimes. Everything I did came out wrong. Or it came out right and I had to re examine the attitude and heart behind it. And then it got really bad. At a specific time. Really bad and very hurtful. And the hurt was followed by anger and frustration. So i mulled and cried and squeezed in some apologies and mulled and cried some more.
Then I sent an email to a few of the women I most trust to be in communion with the Holy Spirit and just asked them to pray. I sent that email in the early evening.
One of them responded by saying she had been unexpectedly thinking about me between 3:11 and 3:30. She was going to call right then but couldn’t so she said a prayer.
That time was when things were exactly at their worst for me.
Now I know there are a dozen skeptical responses to this sort of touchy-feely anecdote, and I know there are those who do (or did) read this space who will cling to that view of the world as the right and proper one. I wouldn’t ever take that away from you folks. You have every right to see the world in your way. As much right as I do to view it in mine.
I say only this. How can it not be anything but the most awesome and tremendous feeling to live in a life where even in the darkest of hours there is an ever wild gentleness quietly looking after you, loving you and showing you better ways down the road?
Just Another Pretty Farce 
Glad you are feeling better since Tuesday and, wherever your comfort came from, I’m glad it was there for you.
But I have to say the title of this post has put this song in my head for the rest of the day. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbtFLxtFwg8
Kat,
I’m curious about the connection of the painting (which is one of my faves of the pre-Raphaelites) to your post.
I love how God weaves us together in the ways He does. 🙂 And JJ is such a blessing. I’m glad you and I both know her. 😀
Andrea,
I know it isn’t the standard interpretation, but I take new things away from that painting almost every time I look at it. And in the context of all this I’m struck by how, dispairing and dying, she’s climbed alone into the boat and just given over to where the boat will take her. And it takes her to the shore she’s been longing for, to her rest. In the context of the post I’m the dispairing person and the wind and the current of the river are God’s hand propelling me to comfort without my awareness.
Kat,
That’s a beautiful interpretation!! I love that. In fact, I might just turn your thoughts into a poem — if you don’t mind! 🙂
Not at all. It seems fitting that there be a poem based on a painting based on a poem. It’s like the Producers.
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Oh, and one other thing, which I’m ashamed to admit.
I first saw that picture life-size in the Tate Gallery in 1989, where it took my breath away. I say that not to be all “look at me, I’m Teh Hotness for being in the actual Tate Gallery” but to stress that I have indeed seen the picture in real life. And it’s big in real life. Like 5 feet by 8 feet or something. And then I had a poster of it on my bedroom wall for 2 years that moved to my desk after I got married. And for the last 10 years there has been a magnet of it on my refrigerator.
And yesterday was the FIRST TIME I ever realised that she has a crucifix in the prow of the boat. Seriously. Epic fail. But now that I know it’s there it adds even more to the interpretation. She climbed into that boat with Christ and lets Christ guide her through despair.