Wine

(June 19th) Thunder is rolling. I can see the lightening flash occasionally, and rain has caused a heady steam to rise from the asphalt. It won't cool down until the rain has come and gone. This dry earth, this parched Kentucky, needs this shower. To be rained upon. To be shaken violently... reawakened. It is June. And we are in desperate need of vitality. I am housesitting this week. Last weekend, I was at my own house by myself. In the past week I've been by myself more than I have all year... and there have been some beautiful moments. Last week I came home and cleaned my house and cooked myself dinner. Not just a hot pocket in the microwave, but a good, full, healthy meal. Had to use recipes and everything. And I ate alone. Which is one of my least favorite things to do in the world. Then I rented a movie, laid down on the couch, and watched as George Clooney and Brad Pitt robbed a casino. There were a few nights when the silence was stifling. Where loneliness was the biggest personality in the room, and I had a hard time being by myself. I had too much time to think, slipping quietly into a state of melancholy. Until I forced myself up again... coming to grips with the way things were.There are times in our lives when we will be alone. I am in a season (a rather long one, but a season all the same) of aloneness. I am not alone, in the sense that I have no one to turn to. I have amazing friends, beloved family, and a Lord that has taken me under His wing. But alone. As in, you are the only human in the room.

We learn a lot about ourselves in times like these... when the only rhythm is that of your beating heart. Where you set the pace and the volume. Where hours could pass in silence... or all caution thrown to the wind and you are free--because no one can see you. (Perhaps this is why Jesus went to be alone sometimes. Maybe he danced. Maybe he cried. Maybe he shouted. Maybe he just sat there, waiting for our Father to say something because Jesus was out of words.)My solitude was broken on Sunday. We had a family reunion. Family drove in from Colorado to celebrate Fathers Day and Abby Taylor's 12th birthday. There were more than a dozen people on Severn Way and things got chaotic. I had to quickly adapt to the pace of those around me, cocking my ears to listen for my name, or to absorb the laughter of the boys who I've missed terribly over the past six months. It was beautifully messy. Except for a few kinks thrown in, which brough some irony and humor. When I had had almost enough of it all I looked at my mom, rolled my eyes, and whispered, "We need some wine." She gave me a quirky smile, which I didn't expect, and said we could drink some together. And I was hit with this strange realization.... this sudden awareness of just how alone my mother must feel. Sleeping in the big king size bed by herself, not needing to stay up and wait on anyone at night, or make sure there is Diet Pepsi in the fridge, or that a parking space is open in front of the house. And my heart broke for her... in the best way. And my heart loves her more now than ever before. And my heart is full of more respect for her than all my years combined. What a gracious woman. How carefully she listened... how strong she is. How fortunate.

Oh that we may all be broken in such a gentle way, so that room may be made for something beautiful. Oh that I may have that sort of courage. The courage to run, with the wind blowing in the most righteous way, towards the Father's next stronghold. To the next safe place. To His strength. But oh... (and I whisper this now, so I might possibly avoid the inevitable chidings about time, patience, and plans yadayadayada)... But oh that I may know a different sort of love than my mother has ever known. And that I will drink wine because it tastes good; that there may be two glasses instead of one. And that one day I will not sleep alone.... And so, with glasses held high, I give a toast. "Here's to love... to never living in the absence of it. To never knowing a lack of hope. To courage... to tears shed... to empty ring fingers and sleeping alone. Life as we know it may cease to be. But here's to running to His strength."