The grey clouds are slowly rolling away; breaking apart, being burned up by the morning sun.
It looks like it's turning out to be a beautiful day.
Something about that is unsettling for a minute; like everything's going to be okay, but I know I'm not okay with it just yet. Waiting for God to reveal to me more about the storms that have come and go; pondering how I hear him most in the conflicts, even if it is just Him telling me to shut up.
Contemplating the dynamics of family and community; the threads of understanding, humility, and grace that tie both together, despite the seemingly vast chasm between.
And how everything horrible that is felt and thought in reaction to those connections is continuously redeemed by one, always unexpectedly.
Finding my place among the saints and sinners, and being okay with that; weary from trying to fit in with those who I am not like.
Finding my peace with who I am, much to the chagrin of those who wish to change me.
Learning to embrace the tie that binds, the unifying heart that beats inside all of us, whether we are aware of it or not; binding peace to war, kind to ruthless, light to dark, ignorance to awareness.
Becoming aware of my distraught comfort in the grey, because of the Truth of my connection to divinity, not my 'feelings' on connection to divinity.
Embracing new awareness of my sick enjoyment of the unknown, because of my dependence on the one who wrote the story, His story. Knowing I'm involved in the story, not that the story is about me.
Prayers of "what's next" breathed in unrecognized exasperation turn into thankful praise as the clarity of understanding comes in mere lightning flashes of understanding.
The peace that I pray for has nothing to do with who fills my home, or who doesn't; who I'm connected to or not.
It has everything to do with why.
