As I muse upon God’s work in my life these days, I realize that my life is always changing. In service this morning, the priest likened transitions to moving from one trapeze bar to another. The thing about trapeze artists is that they’re always moving. If they’re not moving, it’s because they’re taking a break from being a trapeze artist.
In like manner, we’re always moving. My life is always changing; there’s an ebb and flow to each day. In season, out of season. Up and down. But also, lateral moves. In one town, then in another town. Now a sister, now a daughter. First the receiver, then the giver.
I’ve been drowning in all the movement and lots of little details. I’ve only begun to realize how deep the pain is because I’ve started crying on the phone with various people. I talked to Timothy about it a little this morning. He didn’t have a whole lot to say, but one thing really struck home. He said, We’ve been praying for you twice a day here at the church. And, I realized that no matter how far away I am or how low I feel, God is still there caring for me, and I’m part of a community who remembers me and stands with me every day, even if they can’t understand how I feel and have no real solution. The experience of that is priceless and beautiful.