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| At Russian Christmas in January--love this guy a lot! |
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| In the mountain athlete's village in Rosa Khutor at the Olympics--what an amazing experience! |
I don't know if ever, in the almost 8-year history of this blog, I have gone this long without writing. Obviously, during our time in Sochi, there simply wasn't time. But it has taken me a while to get back to what passes for normal, and trying to put my thoughts about anything into actual words was just too much for me to comprehend. I couldn't do it. And I'm still not totally prepared to talk about Sochi, or maybe I'm prepared, but I don't think I can do it justice, yet. In many ways, it was an astounding experience. And I want to give it what it deserves, and I don't think I'm there quite yet. It was truly wonderful, amazing, fabulous...name an adjective that means 'great.' But details and examples and stories...they feel too personal, still. I'm not sure that will make sense to you. But in a way, in a very real way for me, it was awe-inspiring to watch God work. Not in the way we usually use 'awesome,' but in the actual meaning of the word, it was awesome. Again and again and again, we were humbled by the way He showed up, held our hands, patted our backs, and kept us moving forward. He acted, as the verse above says, in perfect faithfulness.
But as we all know, life marches ever forward. Every mountaintop experience, and I would say that Sochi was a mountaintop experience, is followed by some time in the valley. That's life. And this past week, in particular, has been a rough one. Marc left for Ukraine to do news coverage last Friday, arriving home yesterday morning. About ten minutes before he left, I found out that my beloved friend, Kimmie, had lost her daughter in a terrible car accident. Marc left for the airport--literally--to the sound of my sobs. That could not have been easy for him, and it was certainly awful for me. So I spent the week mourning for my friend, mourning that I couldn't be there with her, and mourning that Marc was out of the country in the midst of all of this. Plus, he got to be in Ukraine, a place I have a deep love for, and I was kind of jealous about that. Even with the troops on the border, I would have liked a trip to Ukraine. So on Wednesday, the day Kimmie was saying goodbye to her daughter, I had a royal pity party. I don't mean I felt bad. I mean I cried LOUDLY. Every bad experience, every bad circumstance, missing my kids, my friends, my parents, my sisters...name it. I probably cried about it. I actually ruined a pair of contacts by crying. No kidding. And I was not pleasant. Ask poor John. He was stuck with me. Ask my friend here who called me. I was not pleasant.
Finally, when I calmed myself down, I had to take a hard look at why I was so upset. Why was I upset? Well, for one, someone I love so dearly was hurting so badly, and I couldn't be there. First, let me be clear. She was completely surrounded by people and didn't need me. I wanted to be there because I wanted to be there for her. But I knew she wasn't walking this path alone. Plus, of course, with the internet, I've been able to chat with her every day. So what else had me upset? Well, Marc was in Ukraine. And Ukraine and Russia are all upset with each other, and we love both countries so much, and the conflict was scary and upsetting to me. And what else? I missed my Momma and Daddy. Yep. I'm 46, and I cried because I miss my Momma and Daddy.
I don't usually have days like that. I'm too practical a person to spend a day in that kind of teary mode. But I just let myself have the day. I cried. I read books. I stayed away from my computer. I did some cleaning. I did not talk to a ton of people. I just shrugged my shoulders and thought, well...it's a bad day. Tomorrow will likely be better. And you know what? It was. Of course, some of that is because Marc was back in the apartment by 9:30, and he brings sunshine with him when he walks in--just his presence always makes me feel better. Some of that is because I prayed a very specific prayer for Kimmie, and in a message from her overnight, I was able to clearly see that God had answered that prayer. And some of it is just that I've done this relationship with Jesus thing for quite a while, and I know Him. He never leaves. He never forsakes. To quote Toby Mac, we lose our way, we get back up again. (I know. I quoted Toby Mac. I'm so cool.) He is absolutely, 100% faithful. Ever near, ever listening, ever comforting...even during a royal pity party. He knows me. He loves me, anyway. Grace, grace, grace. That is just all grace.
Maybe you never have a really bad day. Maybe your life is all sunshine and butterflies. But I'm betting it's not. All of our lives, it seems to me, are constituted by highs and lows and days of just status quo movement. Nothing big, nothing little...just life. I think the comforting thing to me is that God wants to be part of all of it. I look at my prayer journal, and I'm astounded by the way He answers even the 'silly' prayers--about my back hurting, or a test Sarah Beth has, or how to answer this or that email. Every single thing, good and bad, He wants to be a part of it all. And perhaps, over these years overseas, that is the thing about my relationship with God that has changed the most. I have finally accepted the idea that He loves someone like me. Intense, introverted, book-loving me. He knows me, and He pursues me daily. Every part of me. The good on the outside part, where I am looking like a pretty good Christian. The bad on the inside of me part, where I am often snarky and rude and selfish and prideful. And the part that has a pity party big enough to ruin a pair of contact lenses. He loves it all. I don't get it. I don't understand it. But my, oh my--I'm surely grateful for it. Surely, surely.
Well, I think I'm going to go start another book. I know--how can one person read that many books? I promise I don't just read books all day. But in any spare minute I have that isn't occupied with something else, I fit in some reading. Plus, it's Friday night, so Marc is at band practice, and John and I have kind of a quiet tradition. I read a book while he plays Pokemon. It works for us. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know and understand that the God of absolutely everything loves every single part of you--even the ones you don't love so much, and that your sweet girl is coming home from boarding school tomorrow, too. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
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