Sunday, January 23, 2011

My dearest God,

We spent the afternoon with my uncle and aunt whose home burned down a couple of days ago. I threw my arms around the aunt who especially helped my mother care for me the first year of my life. I kept hugging her and then sat on the couch with her by my side. I was so glad they were alive especially since my 81 year old Aunt Caroline was smoked during the fire. Her face was covered in black soot, my fire chief cousin told us.

Everything about me skids to a halt when tragedy touches my family. Time stops. My thinking on other subjects redirects itself to focus on the event at hand. I swiftly move to my wealth of emotions like gratitude, sorrow, joy, sadness, heartbreak, hurt, and desire to be close, feeling them all at once. My memory banks start to overflow with memories of my loved one. I reflect upon what it would be like to live without them. Then the tears flow, peppered with prayers of thanksgiving that a greater tragedy was averted.

As I permit myself to think about life with all its joys and its sorrows and near losses, you remind me again that life is lived in your presence. As each day unfolds, you challenge me to cherish the day, to revel in my blessings, to give thanks, to reprioritize, to say I love you and I'm sorry, to smile, to think deeply, to live out of the well of faith, to help others, and to contribute to bettering the world in whatever corner I find myself. When I am distracted, I stray from my path and can feel lonely and separate. I can dwell in what ifs or momentarily get caught up in what's wrong but (and this is the very best part) then you call my name like a child called to dinner. You move me to spiritual responsibility and the jolt is enough to cause me to turn around and head home.

I must dwell
in the land
of praise.
I must sing
and dance often
remembering your grace.
I must lift
my hands
in prayerful thanksgiving.
I must express
my love,
my devotion,
and my worship
allowing your glory
to shine.
I love you.

Forever yours, Andrea