Ever since I read that it has remained in my mind, dusting my thoughts like powdery white snow that swirls around on the pavement and only accepts the faintest footprints. So I guess it was something I had needed to hear.
It seems like this road has been so daggum windy. I can only see two feet ahead and then the pavement makes another jarred curve and I drive in blind with only minute confidence that there will not be a car, or a herd of grazing water buffalo, in my lane on the other side. I feel tired because I wait and yet have no idea what is coming. UNCG would do me a huge service to tell me if they'll take me for their Writing Master's program because the not-knowing is turning me into something of a plastic wind-up duck.
We've got these married friends who went out on a limb to move down here to North Carolina. They live in an apartment complex. It's nice, but they decided it was time to move on. They found a house and jumped through about seventy-five loops, all hung up high in the air, some of them on fire, to buy this house. And they love it--it's got a big lawn with a slight hill in the back. There are a few other houses around but everyone is neighborly. They have two big dogs, a lab and a golden retriever, and my friends just want so badly to live in a place where the dogs can run around and play.
So they had it all lined up and then they hit a snag. His company won't write a letter declaring he's got a consistent full-time job, even though he does and has worked there for three months, because they're "working on their budget." Now they can't close on the house. They are living out of boxes, borrowing spare bed rooms and using other folks' washers and dryers. My friend, the girl, who is the most delightful soul, her eyes are turning red with stress and the other night, when I saw her laugh at someone's joke, I realized it was the first time I'd seen a real smile out of her in a good while. This week all I can say to her is that she has to wait for the God who comes.
That's the catch about God coming-- you have to wait.
On Monday night my almost-husband left late after a movie. He wasn't gone ten seconds before he busted back through the door, picked me up in my plaid cotton pants and sweatshirt, ran outside and spun me around under the radiant moon. I laughed and shrieked and gasped... it was snowing.
On Tuesday morning I awoke and when the sun finally rose I, in some bizarre ritual, stepped outside in a tank top. The street was silent and it the earth was white. I expected the quiet to linger, as it does on snow mornings, but then I heard the most peculiar sound. I walked out further and heard my neighbors--a five-year-old and two-year-old toe head--shrieking and calling out, "Dad! See this?!" It was so early, but the kids ran and laughed and dragged their dad by his gloved hands down into the snow.
I don't know what it is, between the waiting for this One who does come, the small measure of faith that we cling to, and that sweet soft snow and they way it seemed to cover over a multitude of troubles. But I think I believe it deep down, that God will come.
"God is thrust onward by his love, not attracted by our beauty. He comes even in moments when we have done everything wrong..."
1 comment:
Ginny!! that was awesome!! very impressive
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