It rained most of the day. I prayed that it would rain on my birthday, and I'm so glad it did. I also told my parents that I didn't want to celebrate this year, and I'm really thankful that they honored me by not doing anything. I kind of feel like nothing's more miserable than to be forced to celebrate when you're sad. I haven't really slept in two days and my heart is heavy.
I love to be with people. I don't need an agenda or any purpose, I just like to be near others. Working silently on a project, sitting in the car, grocery shopping, you name it. I just love to slip quietly into people's worlds and families and become a part of them.
I know that God meets you where you are, because today He let it rain and storm and prompted all the people I love to send me texts of how much I mean to them and I got a hair cut and cried in the Anthro dressing room and then I called so many people, just wanting to talk, wanting to hear truth that I didn't miss out on the adventure, that there's hope for twenty-six. And no one picked up. I called five different people and no one answered. But Trent picked up, and my sweet, loving Papa let me talk to one of my favorite brothers for over an hour, and he let me cry and we talked about how God isn't just about our Spirit, but our soul too. God cares for how we feel. We can fellowship with him inside of our messes and he loves our hearts. We didn't fix anything, but hung up feeling known and loved.
My brother brought me home chips and guac from chipotle and I snuggled with Cookie while talking to two of my dearest friends on the phone. It thundered; the lightening would make my room bright and then the darkness would settle back in.
All this to say that I'm thankful for a Papa who was just "with" me today. My favorite. He entered into my sad day and didn't change it, I didn't feel the joy of the Lord, and my kiss of grace was that He joined me in my sadness. I experienced a God who is near to the broken hearted, who was quiet and sorrowful with me. And that God is just as sweet and loving as the one who turns your mourning into dancing. Maybe that will happen tomorrow, but today we just cried together. He loves my sad heart.
Twenty-five has been a mixture of light and dark, lost and found, knowing and unknowing, adventure and routine, emptiness and more than enough. Right now they've got my hands trembling and my heart racing. A whole bunch of paradoxes. A whole bunch of cycles.
But the good thing about cycles is that they always comes back around. Anne Lamott said, "it seems so natural to think that all the action is forward. Actually, backwards is just as rich as forward, if you can appreciate the circle instead of the direction".