Monday, April 20, 2009

Stillness. Wholeness.

After a whole week of spring break, I come back to have to leave half way through the day because of a stinking ear infection. I learned just how frustrating and painful those are. I hated that I had to leave work and then skip my after school job, knowing what it does to leave someone hanging, but there are just certain points where you are out of options, and you have to just stop. I feel like perhaps God uses sickness to force me into stillness because it is so hard to savor, especially for anyone, if you're like me who derives way too much of their worth from what can be accomplished in a single day. But the truth is, though I could have read and watched a ton of TV today, I really savored the moment that I finally found the perfect niche of all four pillows, the pain killers started to kick in, the room was dark, and the only thing I could hear is the soft breeze gently knocking those ridiculous vertical blinds in my bedroom. And for a moment, I am still, for a moment, I choose to trust that being a child of God is realized in moments like these, where I can offer absolutely nothing, but am still loved.

My roommate and I are close to our 3rd anniversary in our apartment we live in now. And as I sit on the porch, and that same breeze from this afternoon kisses me again, I remember our first night here and how she and I watched the sunset off the balcony and laughed as I helped clarify that we did not in fact have an ocean view, which she had claimed when she was trying to sell me on the place. Funny to think I never thought it would be the same apartment that she would show me pictures of wedding dresses she's been eyeing and that I would tell her what I thought. SO many moments in those three years that have defined us and shaped us and brought us to this moment now. She has taught me about authentic community and how I am created to live in it. There are no regrets, and yet tonight all of that is embraced between two beautiful perfect sunset nights on a balcony we intended to spend way much more time on. I'm here now. That's all that counts.