There’s a couple of good things that come out of moving……
1- you get completely organized, and
2- you purge yourself of things that have been sitting around your house for years.
I read somewhere that if you don’t use an item that you have been saving or an item that you have packed away within a 12 month period then the chances of you ever needing it or using it drops to about 8%…..funny number if you ask me.
Anyhow, I am a hoarder……a hoarder of memories. I keep everything! I have letters from friends from when I was in 6th grade. I don’t know why I hold on to memories so tightly, but it might be because I experienced loss and fear of loss at a very young age. Loss has pretty much been a part of shaping my life.
I save pretty much every piece of paper that has writing on it. lol. I have a 100+year old diary that my great great grandmother wrote in when she was a teenager. What can I say…..I love memories. ;o) It’s pretty much the only thing that you have, God willing, at the end of a life.
So with all of that said……I have boxes and boxes of letters, video tapes, cassette tapes, and pictures from my past. I realized today that these boxes of memories have gone with me from house to house to house. They have followed me through 8 moves…….and they are about to embark on a 9th move! While I was cleaning out the guest bedroom closet today I briefly thought to myself, “I should throw these away.” BUT, then I sat down for a second (or a thousand) and read through some of the memories. I couldn’t bring myself to throw away one piece of paper (well, that’s not entirely true. I did throw away one of my journals from January 2001-July 2001 because I completely exasperated myself reading it. God’s patience is immeasurable……I discovered just how great it is by reading through 2 of my journal entries today. Good-Ness!)
During my re-reading of memories, I came upon a poem that I had framed a few months after my mom passed away. Reading through this poem lead my mind back to the grief I felt so deeply after realizing that she was really gone. I remember, at the time, not having any sense of God’s presence. I knew He was there, but I just couldn’t “feel” his comfort or peace. I was so consumed with pain and grief that I couldn’t really feel anything, but pain. Those of you who have lost a parent at a young age know what I am talking about. I remember feeling like the one person who gave me comfort and peace, my mom, was ripped away from my life and I was left with an empty hollow space. I would love to say that God swept in immediately and filled that emptiness I was feeling. However, it didn’t happen….at least not immediately. He was there the entire time and I know that now, but when you are in the midst of grief it is very hard to see Him, the One Who Comforts. As I walked through the journey of grief with my eyes on God, meeting with Him daily, then I began to see Him and “feel” His comfort. The pain and grief I once felt was slowly, but persistently, exchanged for feelings of peace and comfort……that ultimately came from God. It was during those moments of grief and silence that I came upon this poem. I framed it and kept it in my bathroom so that I would keep my eyes on the One who comforts. I had faith that I would be healed from the pain of loss and that God would exchange it for peace. And He did. ;o) Today, as I read through this poem, I was once again filled with a hope worth waiting for.
And God seems not to answer at all,
When your cries in the night seem useless,
And God fails to heed your call.
When the prayers you have prayed go unanswered
And doubt and despair fill your heart,
When hopelessness steals into your life
That says: “God isn’t doing His part.”
Ah, blessed child, your God is at work,
Though ne’er can we see till it’s past.
That He, in the silence of angelic hush,
Has carved out your message at last.
When the heavens appear to be silent,
You stand, child, on Holy sod,
And quietly as you but rest in His love
You find then the heart of God.
That’s why the heavens are silent:
There is nothing your God cannot do.
But, yet, He has chosen the better part,
Of silently changing you!