Tuesday, August 30, 2011

losing things. missing things. locking doors.


I feel restless. An unsettled feeling. A feeling that things are missing. Yesterday's experiences brought it all to the surface.

As I was heading out the door to pick up the kids from school, I realized that my keys were no where to be found. They weren't anywhere. I had left them on the counter by the sink when I came home from church on Sunday.They weren't in my purse, either. I searched in a frenzy. Tore up the house. Tore through the stink of yesterday's garbage, even. Called Keith at work and he saved the day. Called to reassure the kids at school. Apologized to Antonio's mom who would wonder why he was late. Humbly, yet again, I get up on my bed and on my knees and I cry, It's me, Heavenly Father, the one who is always losing her keys and other stuff and turns to You in embarrassed desperation and wondering why it's times like these that make it so easy to have faith and trust and believe that You'll answer.

It dawned on me yesterday, too, that I miss more than my keys. I miss the noise. The quiet of these last few days is surprisingly uncomfortable. And yet, it is something I've always craved and sought. Just give me some peace and quiet, you kids. Now, this silence is deafeningly loud. So loud I have to distract myself from it and the thinking and my own constant internal chatter. I see that I'll need to find ease in this new reality.

And then there's the biggest loss.

I'm missing God. I miss Him the most.

It's becoming more and more clear to me. Why all this unexplainable uneasiness. All emotion crystallized, verbalized in out-loud expression last night to Keith, that He is the One, the most important thing, I've lost. More than keys. More than noise. More than identity. More than kids.

I've created this distancing void, the despairing space between us. I've closed the door to my heart, and hid the key away. This key lost, just like the sybolism of the keys I carry in my purse and now miss so much. (The irony.) Boundary formed so as not to feel the pain of lost hope, of doubting faith. Questioning His role in my life. Questioning the meaning of prayer. Facing unattainable expectations of perfection, from myself and others and the culture. (But not on what God sees, or how He judges. And the deep down forgetting that this is all that matters in the end.) All ugly seeds planted in my heart these past several months, and watered drop by drop with bitterness. With pride. With fear.

And when you've lost something you've cherished, something you can't live without, it hurts. Really bad. It's hard. It takes work to find the thing you've come to always rely on. The thing you've taken for granted. A lot of work and deep, deep searching.

I'll keep looking for my keys. I still haven't found them. I've surrendered. Maybe they'll turn up, maybe I'll never find them, and maybe I'll always keep looking.

Just like a lot of other things in my life.

4 comments:

  1. Emily, we are all like children in a maze, loosing ourselves periodically...He sits still with arms and hands stretched to comfort and guide. I know you know that...fear not! The only way to Him is on our knees. Hurt can overwhelm anyone...He knows that! Love you!

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  2. if only you lived closer. I relate so much to these words. Last year was a really hard year for me - the quiet on top of the weather was not a good combo. It was suggested to me to play quiet calming music while home alone. This fall/winter - I need to keep busier (in a good way) and my monkey mind calmer. I have also had my share of doubts with my relationship with God as well. Yet, I keep coming back to Him. Thinking of you. It will get better.

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  3. Loved this. I've distanced myself over the past few months unintentionally by letting other things get in the way. A good reminder for me today, Emily. :)

    Glad you found your keys!

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  4. You are reminding me of Mother Theresa and how her personal writings revealed that she had some of these same feelings. And yet, she served God and her fellow man for so long and so completely that I don't know how she lost herself and didn't find God's love for her.

    Why is it that when we need something so very much, it is so easy to push it away? I struggle with that one myself.

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