I have small panic attacks at the thought of being alive and very old and hearing my children say "mom's almost 90, she can hardly hear anymore. She lost her teeth years ago, she just poops her pants. She'll be gone any day now". And will I still be a beloved child? I know nothing can separate me from the love of God, but will I always know if I'm a beloved daughter of God - unseparated from His love? Will I forget? At some point, I too have to passs through the dark, mysterious doorway of death - when my spirit separates from my body and off I go. That is scary too! It makes me think, while I'm still connected, what have I done with my minute life? What impact has Christ made through such a fear infested, temporary being He calls Lonna? Perhaps that is none of my business but I think about it. I think about my failures, missed opportunities, life long struggles that I somehow never let Christ get the upper hand on because my fearful fists clutch it all so tightly. I imagine my life like a huge bundle of knotted, frayed, mismatched yarn and God has to make something lovely, warm and worthy out of it. Thankfully I'm not God, because I'd just walk away from me. This isn't a self pity purge, it's just what keeps me entertained in the wee hours of the morning. There is the continued stress of Big R's unemployment that I would love to let go of but it would mean getting rid of Big R. His oft-played song of " I've been paying into unemployment since I was 16" (ok, old man Jenkins) makes me just want to yell "get a damn job!" But his addiction keeps him looking at the sunny side of unemployment; sleeping in, watching TV all day, no drug tests. In the end, it will be my story and how I lived it and I won't be allowed to use anyone, including Big R, as an excuse for my behavior and things I said and didn't say. Just me. No pointing fingers, blaming everyone else. I have to answer alone. That's where I am today. Just me. What do I want to do that I am holding back from? Do I have the courage to let go of momentary gratifications and dare to think there's more and it's possibly even more wonderful than I ever imagined? I can be present in the moment and still wait and plan for the future. Even a future of being old. And dusty. But a future with the hope that indeed nothing can separate me from the Love of God.
