If I were to try to explain the last two years of my life to you, I'm pretty sure you would walk away from our time together needing a Xanax and possibly even a good, stiff drink - like, even if you are Baptist. :)
It's been a ride - the Thelma and Louise sort - and that is just putting it mildly. It began with walking through a divorce with my sister and for all those months I felt like my whole family was running around Donna and the nieces with buckets, baskets, and squeegees - just waiting for the messy clean ups to take place. It was horrific and in many ways ... it continues to be.
Then no sooner did we get Donna through the "Big D" (and I don't mean Dallas), and a well-timed phone call to a girlfriend revealed that her life was, as we spoke, falling completely apart. After almost 19 years of marriage, she found out that her husband - the one that had been the picture perfect Christian husband and father - was living a complete and total double life. Oh how I wish I could give you the details ... you would not ... could not ... believe them. It makes me need to watch a Madea movie about once every three days. Tyler Perry just needs to send me a bill for all of the counseling he's given me. It's like kicking complete butt without having to leave my living room. It's glorious.
I have to admit ... I've struggled ...
I'm struggling ...
It's like for many, many months I've been seeing the very worst of humanity. I've had no issues with God ... in fact, the only upside to the whole thing is that it's ushered me into knowing Him more fully and trusting in His plans for us, more and more. BUT, let me say ... it's not the same with people.
People are giving me pause.
Some Christians are giving me greater pause.
Oh snap, I feel a Madea moment coming on ... I'll be right back ...
It's like I've been drowning in tears ... the tears of those I love ... and it's all because of the hurts inflicted on them by people. People that are supposed to care. People that were supposed to love and cherish them no matter what. People that claim to walk in love.
You could fool me.
It's been heavy. Really heavy. I don't want to lose heart. I don't want to fall into complete cynicism and I'm not ... but ... I'm learning that it's a slippery slope.
Then, along came Aster.
I took a road trip this past weekend to visit the friend who is trying to pick up the pieces. I took the buckets, baskets, and squeegees with me in the back of the Cruiser.
Before we picked up the last gal at the airport, I was alone in the car for several hours with my friend, Renee. They are in the process of adopting a sweet baby girl from Ethiopia. You can read all about it on her blog.
Basically, as we drove along I-85, she got the news that one of her best friend's daughters, Hope, was in Ethiopia on a missions trip and the host family she was staying with drove her two hours to the orphanage where Aster (which is her Ethiopian name) is living. They had informed Hope that the orphanages over there were not very open to outside visitors and the odds of seeing Aster were slim. If she were given the opportunity to see her, it would most likely be from a distance. Well, the unexpected happened and not only did Hope get to see Aster ... but she got to hold and play with her for over an hour. All the way across the world ... in a small orphanage ... there was Hope.
Hope in unexpected places.
Right slam in the middle of our road trip ... while we were talking about all the disgusting details of our friend's situation ... Renee's phone rang ... and it was her friend Holly ... telling her that Hope had been able to hold Aster and she was online chatting with her about it. For the next several miles, Renee talked through Holly on the phone, to Hope in Ethiopia. I drove along beside her as Renee asked all kinds of motherly questions ... and laughed ... and cried ... and giggled when she found out Aster's feet were ticklish. I thought to myself, "What polarized conversation is going on in this car today. In this corner we have a life that has been torn completely apart. In the other corner, we have a life that is just about to begin."
Renee had no idea the thoughts that were going through my head. I felt a surge of emotion welling up inside me the longer I heard the joyful conversation happening in the passenger seat beside me. I honestly felt ...
hope.
Hope in mankind. Hope in the future. Hope that even in the darkest places - at the darkest moments - life can begin again. People are still out there doing good on behalf of others ... like the family that selflessly drove two hours so that a young teenage girl from America just might get a glimpse of a baby that will be the daughter of a couple they will most likely never meet or befriend on this earth. That a friend would sit patiently and lovingly on the phone and talk with Renee while typing furiously on the computer with Hope to relay the fresh messages of Aster's juicy sweetness.
I don't know, for some reason, all of that going on in the car simultaneously - that polarization between a life crumbling and a life beginning - it brought some things full circle for me.
Simply put, I needed it.
It helped me draw a deep spiritual breath and it opened my eyes to see that in all of the recent events encircling my life ... I stand a good chance of becoming jaded - to a certain degree. I believe that God is still Sovereign. I believe that good is still happening in the world. I believe that happiness is not an endangered species.
But - these are weighty days.
My heart's desire is that the tension created by this whirling dervish of late will only serve to help my unbelief.
'Cause I don't want to miss the miracles.
It's been a ride - the Thelma and Louise sort - and that is just putting it mildly. It began with walking through a divorce with my sister and for all those months I felt like my whole family was running around Donna and the nieces with buckets, baskets, and squeegees - just waiting for the messy clean ups to take place. It was horrific and in many ways ... it continues to be.
Then no sooner did we get Donna through the "Big D" (and I don't mean Dallas), and a well-timed phone call to a girlfriend revealed that her life was, as we spoke, falling completely apart. After almost 19 years of marriage, she found out that her husband - the one that had been the picture perfect Christian husband and father - was living a complete and total double life. Oh how I wish I could give you the details ... you would not ... could not ... believe them. It makes me need to watch a Madea movie about once every three days. Tyler Perry just needs to send me a bill for all of the counseling he's given me. It's like kicking complete butt without having to leave my living room. It's glorious.
I have to admit ... I've struggled ...
I'm struggling ...
It's like for many, many months I've been seeing the very worst of humanity. I've had no issues with God ... in fact, the only upside to the whole thing is that it's ushered me into knowing Him more fully and trusting in His plans for us, more and more. BUT, let me say ... it's not the same with people.
People are giving me pause.
Some Christians are giving me greater pause.
Oh snap, I feel a Madea moment coming on ... I'll be right back ...
It's like I've been drowning in tears ... the tears of those I love ... and it's all because of the hurts inflicted on them by people. People that are supposed to care. People that were supposed to love and cherish them no matter what. People that claim to walk in love.
You could fool me.
It's been heavy. Really heavy. I don't want to lose heart. I don't want to fall into complete cynicism and I'm not ... but ... I'm learning that it's a slippery slope.
Then, along came Aster.
I took a road trip this past weekend to visit the friend who is trying to pick up the pieces. I took the buckets, baskets, and squeegees with me in the back of the Cruiser.
Before we picked up the last gal at the airport, I was alone in the car for several hours with my friend, Renee. They are in the process of adopting a sweet baby girl from Ethiopia. You can read all about it on her blog.
Basically, as we drove along I-85, she got the news that one of her best friend's daughters, Hope, was in Ethiopia on a missions trip and the host family she was staying with drove her two hours to the orphanage where Aster (which is her Ethiopian name) is living. They had informed Hope that the orphanages over there were not very open to outside visitors and the odds of seeing Aster were slim. If she were given the opportunity to see her, it would most likely be from a distance. Well, the unexpected happened and not only did Hope get to see Aster ... but she got to hold and play with her for over an hour. All the way across the world ... in a small orphanage ... there was Hope.
Hope in unexpected places.
Right slam in the middle of our road trip ... while we were talking about all the disgusting details of our friend's situation ... Renee's phone rang ... and it was her friend Holly ... telling her that Hope had been able to hold Aster and she was online chatting with her about it. For the next several miles, Renee talked through Holly on the phone, to Hope in Ethiopia. I drove along beside her as Renee asked all kinds of motherly questions ... and laughed ... and cried ... and giggled when she found out Aster's feet were ticklish. I thought to myself, "What polarized conversation is going on in this car today. In this corner we have a life that has been torn completely apart. In the other corner, we have a life that is just about to begin."
Renee had no idea the thoughts that were going through my head. I felt a surge of emotion welling up inside me the longer I heard the joyful conversation happening in the passenger seat beside me. I honestly felt ...
hope.
Hope in mankind. Hope in the future. Hope that even in the darkest places - at the darkest moments - life can begin again. People are still out there doing good on behalf of others ... like the family that selflessly drove two hours so that a young teenage girl from America just might get a glimpse of a baby that will be the daughter of a couple they will most likely never meet or befriend on this earth. That a friend would sit patiently and lovingly on the phone and talk with Renee while typing furiously on the computer with Hope to relay the fresh messages of Aster's juicy sweetness.
I don't know, for some reason, all of that going on in the car simultaneously - that polarization between a life crumbling and a life beginning - it brought some things full circle for me.
Simply put, I needed it.
It helped me draw a deep spiritual breath and it opened my eyes to see that in all of the recent events encircling my life ... I stand a good chance of becoming jaded - to a certain degree. I believe that God is still Sovereign. I believe that good is still happening in the world. I believe that happiness is not an endangered species.
But - these are weighty days.
My heart's desire is that the tension created by this whirling dervish of late will only serve to help my unbelief.
'Cause I don't want to miss the miracles.
2 Comments:
Oh Marlo Girl!! Thank you for capturing the beauty of hope in the midst of such loss and devastation that we both know too well.
I can't tell you how glad I was to have you by my side for that amazing moment in time that was simply a miracle. I was thinking about the Ms. Davidson today, the missionary who drove Hope so over two hours, probably along very rough roads to see our baby. To have the comfort of knowing how Aster is doing and the miraculous joy of seeing her being held by my dearest friend's daughter is simply breath-taking.
I agree girl, I don't want to miss the miracles. Getting to experience once with you was an incredible joy!
Love you to pieces.
Renee
Marlo,
WOW!!!! Thank you for sharing! I love how God works in such amazing ways. I am one of Rene's friends from California and was reading her blog and was directed to yours, powerful writng you have.
Cris
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