Yesterday I got the insane opportunity to meet up with my beloved college youth pastor from when I lived in Californi, 2001. We hung out at Chick-fil-A (of course) and then when Teapot was making snow angels and screaming on the middle of the restaurant floor we decided to exit stage right.
We were having one of those conversations where we were trying to condense the last 11 years into 2 hours. We were pushing the babies in swings while Asher was killing himself trying to get across the playground on one of those sliding bars meant to maim children, and I was retelling the story surrounding having Phoebe.
I realized about 1/4 of the way through that I was yelling things like, "And then people started cussing," "and then Scott was crying," "and then my blood pressure, yeah, my blood pressure was doing weird things",
and I realized right there that:
people were starting to look over at us, looking for signs of head contusions,
I will never have a handle on this story. I could tell it 136 times (I'm sure I have already) and it will never make sense to me.
That's the thing - most of what happens to us before we shuffle off the ol' mortal coil never is going to make sense, this side of the curtain, so to speak. I mean, in our human rationale we try to ascribe meaning, make it all fit perfectly... "Well, I think this happened because you realy needed to learn how to let go." or "I think this happened so that I would lose my uterus and never have any more babies, because God knew that would have been way too dangerous." or "God was in control of it all and He just wanted to show everyone His power."
I mean, those dumb, well-meaning Christian rationalities we say when none of us really have any clue.
Who knows why God
So, then Darrin said, "Well, it's kind of like your whole life blew up."
That's exactly what it was like. I just stood there for 17 seconds, soaking it in...
How do some people have that insane gift for speaking truth into a situation after hearing about it for 15 seconds?
Things looked the same on the outside, but from that point on, everything was different.
I walked out of that hospital a different person - of course all of our experiences make us different people, right?
It took about a year for me to come out of that crazy anger haze and now I am realizing just how much everything has changed me. The way I interact with God, the way I see my church family, the ordering of my priorities.
I've got some posts coming that everyone may not enjoy. My shiny object syndrome is doing its best to distract me from my computer and to my coffee.
So, yeah. The inherent people-pleaser in me... I'm not sure that making everyone happy is on the top of my to-do list any more.
Buckle in; it's bound to be a bumpy ride.