The shore of the life we had, the 6 of us is receding into the distance behind me. There is no going back there. Part of me longs to swim or paddle faster toward …well, toward the next thing, suppose. The not this and the not that.
And while there are moments when I want to be somewhere, there are plenty that the rocking and rolling the sinking and floating of the now feels strangely…what…like, all I can do maybe.
Even last week I had more of a desire for the “next”. Now the shore of what is next looks so far away and I feel unprepared for it anyway, so I’m glad it’s not here.
I know the analogy falls short, but the numb and the unpredictable of now is all I can imagine. Sometime maybe I’ll pray about this to be used to transform me in ways only this journey can.
For today I will just be. I have nothing else.
6 thoughts on “Riding the waves ”
Julie, I’m a follower you’ve not met. I began praying for you and your family as you were still hoping against hope to hear they had arrived safely. God brings you to mind at the oddest times, occasionally in the middle of the night. I have grieved over your loss as though you were a good friend, and often weep as I read your posts. I deeply appreciate your honesty and your willingness to share your song of lament. May the Lord’s presence be tangible, minute-by-minute.
Being where you are seems to be the most honest and real thing to be. Thank you for sharing where you are. As always, there is so much love and much prayers for you and the boys. God is near.
Thank you for honestly sharing your heart, so we can know how to continually pray for you. I love how the Father brings you to mind, in the most random of times, which tells of His great love and care for you. Hugs!
Dear friend, I am so sorry you are on this journey. I am thankful that you are committed to riding the waves with your Savior and not sinking below them. You have a Savior that will always be there to keep you afloat!
We have never met, although we both love my daughter Andrea. I want to tell you that I pray for you so often. It’s 2 a.m. here and I can’t sleep. Perhaps God awakened me to pray for you. I am now. You are so deeply loved by so many but none more than your Father.
LikeLiked by 1 person