It’s the day after I re-posted a link to the blog from my facebook page. This post is the most-read and shared on the entire blog. In fact, there were more views yesterday than there would have been had I written a regular post.
Here is the post that would have gone up yesterday had my plan worked out. Apparently, I needed to wait to see what would come of the day before testifying about it.
It’s Friday, and I’m forced to sit in my corner with pen and ink and be still. Unplugged.
Disconnected from the world to connect with God.
It takes wifi failure, technical difficulties, computer glitches to bring me to this place of pondering and contemplation, and still my mind wanders like a lost sheep.
So much inside . . . so much to say.
But, but, but . . .
Even as I write just between me and God, I wonder what others would think if they knew.
It’s a fine line to keep ~ encouraging, reaching out, being still, looking in.
I face unknown within the known today.
I know Dave and Heather.
I don’t know their “new normal.”
I know Greg.
I don’t know who else will be with us on the two hour drive to visit them.
I know God’s faithfulness.
I don’t know how he will show it to me today.
And so I sit. Unplugged. Disconnected.
Trusting God to connect my heart to his and to draw me to the place I need to be where his mercies are new, my heart is satisfied, and I can rest.
Over six months since the initial diagnosis of leukemia and subsequent bone marrow transplant and long road to recovery, over three months since last seeing Dave and Heather in person before their move to Richmond for treatment, I was blessed to be invited to journey to their temporary home for a worship service.
I knew I needed to ride with someone and got in touch with the carpool contact. I didn’t know who else was going to go along. I knew this had been a hard week for me, and that my heart needed connection with God. I didn’t know how he was going to make that happen.
It happened through four hours in the car with my worship pastor, another pastor, and a licensed counselor. It happened through an hour and a half of singing, praying, weeping, and taking communion with Dave and Heather.
It happened through sharing stories and parts of the journey and reflecting on how very far back Steve and I go with the Shanks and they with us.
It happened through space to understand and process a little more and to be a little more disrupted and name a few more things.
It happened. This happened.
And it was so, so sweet.