After finishing my third book in two days, I wander out the the living room to help Teddy with my two oldest children, who have a touch of insomnia tonight. I figure I'll check my email and hit the sack. Of course, I get caught up reading blogs and listening to this new artist and then there's Facebook! Well, that's usually the times that great thoughts come upon me, or that I hear God speak to me (well, when He and I were talking regularly).
First off, I'm listening to a local artist, Justin Klump. His music is fantastic! Soothing and real. Ironically, I've known of him for years because we used to be very good friends with his brother, Aaron, who actually sang in our wedding! Our first kitten as a married couple was received from Justin's family, and we are linked in a few other ways through common people and such. Rabbit trail, sorry. So I'm sitting here listening to his soothing music, and I open an email from the mother of an old friend, in response to my blog. This woman is someone whose opinion has always meant a lot to me. I felt honored that she would read my words, respond to me, and pray for me. The email ushered in some moments tonight of crying, of more thinking, of remembering, of wishing.
In her email, she included some pictures that, oddly enough, she found the day after reading my blog. They were pictures of Teddy and I and a friend, on September 11, 1994. That was the day we got baptized. As this gently emotive music was playing, I stared at these pictures, at my young 19-year-old face. I remember the hope I had for this future I would have...the vision I had of what type of Godly woman I would be. What kind of life I would have, what my journey would look like, how I would serve. And I realized part of my problem right now is that, honestly, I'm grieving. I lost that hope. That future that I had banked on never came to pass, and it hurts. I can't turn back and make it happen. I can't undo what's been done. The pictures make me smile and feel introspective, and I'm so very grateful to her for sending them to me. But it also hurts to see my joyful face and to know that I am not that girl anymore. I think it's good, because it's helping me clean out some emotional places I haven't been able to reach previously.
But what was interesting to me as I was sitting here, crying and staring at the pictures and re-reading her great words of encouragement, was how this soundtrack of Justin Klump behind me fit into my situation. Oddly enough, the song I was listening to is titled "Madeline". Just at a point where I muttered the oft-said words of late, "Lord, I'm listening", the song said "I was trying to write a story but you didn't want to see it." Hmm...hit me a little close to home, a thought to ponder...what story has God been trying to write that I don't want to see? Then he sings, "The poetry is gone, you wrote all the music to someone else's song." That summed up how I feel. My poetry is gone and I used all my music on some other version of ME's song.
Anyway, I don't have any great wrap-up or epiphany for this experience. It is what it is and that's all. But I am grateful that in the midst of my seeking, I am being reminded that I am being pursued. And that even in the midst of this great storm of bitterness that has seized my heart, I can still see the beauty of hope and joy in those pictures of me, so many years ago, even if I just can't connect with it right now. I am thankful for that tonight.