Two Steps Back
Yesterday was forward. Marching. Running, even.
No looking back.
Today, I stumbled. A few rocks on the path and there were 2 steps back. 3. Maybe 4.
I cried to my attorney. I said, sorry. I’m just tired.
I cried to a friend. I said, sorry. I’m just tired. (And I would tell you I cried to my friend over coffee, but attorneys love to use things like coffee against you, so whatever you may think, I will tell you for sure—I did not cry over coffee).
I don’t even drink coffee.
Remember the promise? The future? The moving forward? Yes, yes, but oh this restless spirit and oh how I can see it so clearly.
Standing still is easier. The past is easier. I know what happened.
I know that story. I’ve nursed it, cursed it and rehearsed it.
Again and again.
But the story moving forward? I’ve never been there. I don’t know the ending.
And I am tired.
I’m tired of friends who aren’t really friends and people who promise help but, ooops, never mind and offer no help and of Fridays that come week after week and again they are gone.
And it never gets easier. And it’s never OK.
Feast or famine.
And today she cried. Heavy, heaving, hard tears. She doesn’t want to leave her Momma.
She doesn’t understand.
This was not God’s plan.
And she wants to know if Elena’s Mom and Dad do this….this going back and forth; the push and the pull and they water, but I hold it back and say quite simply.
No. Elena’s parents don’t do this.
But it’s not all like I say because I know I am blessed by good friends who are dear friends; who help and who pray; who listen and stay.
In the gap.
And I remember a prayer from a Beth Moore study. “God, fill up my empty spaces.”
And I write that on an index card and I lean it up on a picture frame. And I speak it.
“Jesus, fill up my empty spaces.”
Close up, Cover up, Lift up, Show up.
In this space; in this place.
And in your mercy.
Run this race.
“…forgetting what lies behind, and reaching forward to what lies ahead.” Phil 3:13