Heavy hearts...

I haven't been able to blog recently. I just haven't had the physical, mental or emotional energy. I have missed it though, and tonight I feel compelled.

Paul Moore passed away today. I would not say that I was friends with Paul. I knew his smiling face through church. We were friendly to each other as church families and I spoke often to them. I knew him through his participation in the Easter dramas. I remember as a young child watching him play football. He graduated with my oldest brother Greg. I have heard nothing but kind things about Paul, and all my encounters with him left me feeling uplifted. From what I know of him he was a good man, husband, father, friend, and a hard worker.

What makes me feel so sad about this situation is that Paul was just 41. 41. 41. What must Donette be feeling right now? I would love to say that my faith is strong enough and my dependence upon Jesus ultimate. However, if I lost Nathan my world would be crushed. Maybe I'm waxing because I'm pregnant. Maybe I'm hormonal and sad. Maybe I'm being melodramatic, but I think I would be LOST.

I cried tonight. My heart breaks for his family. However, I believe Paul is with Jesus and that comforts me. However, there is still an emptiness AND a realization that life is short. How much more time will I have? How much more time will I have with my family? Only the Lord knows, but I pray that He gives me grace and wisdom to live each of those remaining moments FOR HIM, THROUGH HIM, and to make the most of my life.

Just recently Kevin, our pastor, took us through a series on "30 days to live". How poignant that we as a church family heard this message series. How am I living? Am I living? Or am I just surviving? So many thoughts I can hardly put them all down...

Broken

I was given these Willow Tree figurines several years ago by one of the dearest friends I've ever known. The two figurines come together by sliding the hands of one woman into the hands of the other. Yes they can function independently, but they were meant to be together. This set is on my dresser. I view them several times throughout the day.

Oddly enough over the last few months though they have been falling. When I shut a drawer to quickly or maybe too roughly they topple over. Sometimes one falls. Sometimes both of them take a tumble. It's almost humorous how many times I have had to restore them to their upright position. You think I would have enough sense to move them.

Well today the unfortunate happened. As I was putting laundry in its respective drawers the figurines gave an unrecoverable tumble. The one woman who slips her hands OVER the other is the one that broke. Oddly enough it was JUST her hands. I have been thinking about this most of the day. This is symbolic for MANY reasons.

I am not sure I am ready to write ALL of my feelings regarding this, but I will share a few thoughts. Quite often no matter how hard I try to hold onto something OR someone the grasp eventually is broken. For different and various reasons relationships are broken. The hands of time, relationship, love and commitment are released and people fall away from each other.

You see these two people on my dresser can stand separately. One can even stand there without any hands, but this is not its intended design. Also, this isn't its original status. Even with the hands repaired, the figurines won't fit together the same way. They won't look the same. This is how it is with relationships after forgiveness is granted and amends are made. The relationship is never quite the same, but can fit together again in a NEW way.

There are relationships in my life that have been broken. Someone has chosen to let go. Their hands have slipped away and I am standing there with my hands outstretched waiting to grasp onto something. Perhaps it was an unintentional fall, perhaps it was a choice. I am not sure, but nevertheless, the hands are broken, and so is my heart.

Ultimately I am reminded today that the only hand that will NEVER let go is the nail-scarred hand. I can slip my hands into HIS and know that his friendship, his redemption, his love will NEVER fade, fail or falter. He chooses me. He reaches out to me and lovingly wraps his hands around mine. It is a beautiful, loving grasp, strong and secure yet gentle and patient. His love is not coercive or forceful.

I will try and repair my broken angel. She is important to me. The love behind the gift was real, and I like to believe it still is, even though distanced by time and life.

God forgive me for the times I withdraw my hands from you. The times I have chosen my OWN path over YOUR way. The times I thought that I needed to set my hands to something else. Hold onto me firmly Lord. Don't let me go, please. Also forgive me for holding onto other things and other people more tightly than I hold onto YOU. Mend my broken hands and my divided heart.