he made his home among us

I never thought that coming home would be hard.

A friend from college asked how I was and I said something to the effect of “I’m fine, hope your Christmas season is merry, it’s nice to be home…” the usual trite-ness. And then I guess I just realized, that this is supposed to be my friend, my future friend and she cares and I’m doing that UVa thing where you lie through your teeth just to make it seem like life is perfect and you’re strong and joyful ALL THE TIME.

She responded with a “you rock! Love ya!” and I just came out with it. “Actually today is not that fine. I’m kind of really upset.”

I explained what I was feeling. Hopelessness. The kind that creeps in slowly with ennui. The kind that comes when you’re watching other people who seem so happy, listening to songs that make you think you’re supposed to be that merry…and you realize that you’re not. You realize that your life is not as perfect as you wish it was, as you make it seem…and you aren’t sure how to attain that kind of perfection.

Coming home is hard.

It’s because I had to leave a lot of hurt behind when I left. Chelsey and Zach called it a blessing, the cutting of all the strings that tied us to a place. Sure, I’m still tied with a few phantom traces of familiarity and memories. But the future, the near future at least, isn’t here. No matter how much I wish it was here (I always do when I come back) it isn’t. That’s what’s hard.

 I was going to write a post about Christmas trees.

I learned last year in AP French that the Christmas tree represents the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The ball ornaments we place on our Frasier Furs are like the apple Eve ate. On our tree, they are always fittingly red.

So then I was thinking…what else about the Christmas tree points to the biblical narrative. The Christmas lights were once actually candles, which seems dangerous. A tree on fire without actually burning reminds me of Moses’s burning bush. A burning bush and a promise of redemption and salvation from slavery. Slavery is what it feels like. Slavery to doubt. And then there’s our star that we always have to put on the top of the tree…some people have an angel. Nonetheless both announce the fulfillment of the promise and lead the way there.

 “Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland. (Isaiah 43:18-19)

I’m trying to forget, and to focus on the future. But I like to dwell and dream and wonder “what-if”…what-if things had worked out differently, what-if things change in the future….what-if?

 I spend so much time focused on the possible scenarios of the will-never-be paths that could have been and could be God’s plan but weren’t and won’t be. All I know is that there is a promise. And there will be a fulfillment and I’m being led towards it each day. 

My friend said “if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

 I responded “can you send me some verses?”

 I have never had a friend like that. Not one who I get to really truly live beside. Surely, surely this is stream in my wasteland. Surely, surely goodness and mercy will follow me even through the darkest of valleys.

 Tonight the verse she sent me was 2 Timothy 2:22-26, this is what I heard:

 

Don’t even try to be involved in a stupid and foolish fall-outs and arguments, they only make you frustrated and anxious and insecure. A servant of the Lord is none of these things. Kate is none of these things. She is kind to everyone, able to teach, and not resentful. She gently instructs with great hope for those who quarrel with her because of the promise God gave. There is hope that perhaps God will open the eyes of the lost, that he will enable them to hear and know truth, to come to their senses, to escape the trap of the devil that they fell in to when Adam and Eve ate of the apple. They are captives, and God promises to redeem his people. He promises. No matter how the future turns out, no matter how the past could have been, this is the promise that will be fulfilled.

 

This Christmas, I ask for patience, that I may be exceedingly and abundantly patient with those who endlessly frustrate me and keep me dwelling on the past. Be strong, take heart, wait for the Lord.