My mama recently lost her job. She is a starving artist of sorts. She has moved from a house into a one room studio. She has had to let go of many things to make this move. As we talked yesterday, I was thinking on a time in my life that I had to go through that process. It was one of the most painful times of my whole life and I moved from a 2 story, 3 bedroom townhouse to a tiny little bedroom in the back of my aunt's house. I was losing everything all around me and facing a life that I had never envisioned to be mine. I was full of grief--the life I thought I was going to have had died. I couldn't find God in it. I gave up even looking for Him.
But what happened in that tiny little room was miraculous. My whole life changed in that little room. God took my mistakes and redeemed them in that little room. I remember that once I had situated myself in that room, friends and family commented on how funny the room was--to see me boiled down into that tiny space. It was like Canaan overload in an itty bitty space.
I was telling my mom not to wish that away. Life has a funny way of contracting and expanding like breathing. Sometimes life is big and sometimes it is tiny. The tiny times have a funny way of having a big impact. I realized then just how little I needed to survive. A twin bed with a cheap mattress, a radio with my favorite CDs stacked on top, my desk stacked with college textbooks, a few clothes in the closet, people who loved me and supported me. Maybe I am in need of revisiting that lesson again. I am sure a lot of us are.
The most important thing that happened when my life boiled down to that room was that I had to wrestle with God. All that was left was Him and me and we had to talk. I was mad some nights and sad some nights. I poured it out to Him. I even yelled at Him a few times. He is God and He can take it. And then, the fever broke, so to speak. Everything got still and quiet.
And then I met my husband. And he reached out his hand to me and said, "I am miserable too. Give me your hand. I'll help you get up and we will figure this all out together. I'll be your friend." And 10 years and 2 babies later, he is still pulling me up and saying that we can figure it out together.
My point? Don't wish away the lean times, the sad times, the hard times. There are diamonds buried in all that black coal and if you just wish away your circumstances you will never see them. If you have to be in a place, physically or emotionally, be there, just be. There is always an end, always another side.
Aaaah...boiling it all down. What a very good thing.