Mourn

"You have to mourn it out," she says. "Mourn and weep and tell God you can't handle it on your own. The more you hold onto the pain the more damaged you become."

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are those who...

Blessed are...

God, give me comfort.

Dream Stories

I dreamed of a flood last night. A quick search into the vast world of "dream meanings" shows a common opinion that a flood dream means something in your life is out of control, overwhelming, negative, relentless. I'm not really a fan of "one-size-fits-all" dream interpretations, but I looked it up because it reminded me of a flood dream I'd had over a year ago - a dream that was very different, but one I remembered in detail and had written down.

I have a few dream stories saved: some incoherent, some vaguely plot-like. Sometimes I remember all the details of a dream and sometimes I don't. This is one I remembered.

Dream Stories

It was flooding. 

The main room of the house had gigantic floor-to-ceiling windows and the water had covered them almost completely. It was like an aquarium where debris swam by instead of fish.

A young man was there, traveling home after a long summer away. He sat on the couch beside her with the TV on, half watching whatever marched across the screen. Children wandered in and out, distracting and defeating conversation. The girl got up to chase one off, then settled on the floor in front of the couch and absentmindedly began rubbing one of the young man’s feet. She dug her fingers into a tight muscle and he let out a quiet breath of appreciation.

She stood to look out the window at the sloshing, slowly receding water. He moved to stretch out on the floor, elbows propped up on a worn cushion. She returned to the floor beside him and he rolled close, nestled his face on her shoulder and placed three light, quick kisses on her neck. His lips left her skin but he didn’t lift his head, and she didn’t turn to look at him. They lay still for several moments. 

The silence continued. The water receded. Then, “Come with me?” he said, and she replied, “Yes.” 

 

Sharing

We don't share a tube of toothpaste.

As long as we've been married there have been 2 separate tubes, separate brands, stored on separate bathroom shelves. I prefer my brand and he prefers his, and it's never been an issue.

Recently I started to think that it's all a bit silly, and that I should just give up my brand and share his for simplicity's sake. But I hadn't said anything yet, not wanting to waste my almost-brand-new tube.

Last night he got a call and this morning he left for an overnight work trip. We've barely spoken in the past 24 hours; my fault. I've shut down again, frozen him out, up alone till 1:30am on Saturday night sobbing because I can't control the anger I feel toward him due to the things he chooses to fill his time.

As I stepped out of the shower he rapped on the door and said goodbye and that was all. I looked around the bathroom and realized he'd already packed up. If we were sharing toothpaste, I would have been left paste-less.

So the positive side is to say, "look, we're prepared for time apart. He travels, I sometimes travel, we're ready for it." But part of me also wished that was something we already shared - that today I'd have to stop and buy back-up toothpaste to have while he's gone.

Reunion

Yesterday evening I ran into the pastor I worked for over a year ago.  Last March almost our entire ministry team was let go: the pastor, the administrative assistant (me) and the graphic designer, along with many more from other ministries. After almost a year away, I'm back at the same church...same office...same desk (amazingly enough), but now working for a different pastor in a different ministry.

My former boss's brother is still a pastor here, and yesterday they came through a door together just as I turned the corner. After my initial surprise at seeing his face, I almost instantly burst into tears. Not loudly or very noticably - and the hallway was dark, too - but it was an uncontrollable reaction at seeing someone I deeply cared for. We hugged across his armload of camera equipment and they continued on their way.

At just about this time last year we'd all packed up our offices and had been pursuing new jobs for about a month. Mine was not going well, and I dreaded going in every morning. One particular day I woke up to a nearly flat tire and had to stop by and fill it up on my way in to work. I was rushing, and as I drove away I realized I had left the tiny tire valve cap sitting on the gas station air pump. Frustrated, I returned to the gas station and crouched down to replace the errant cap, muttering about how terrible the rest of the day would surely turn out.

As I stood back up I heard a familiar voice say, "I thought I recognized your car!" It was him. Just like today, I instantly started crying. He asked how it was going and I said not great. He had been a pastor at the church for over a decade, so the blow of the layoff was much greater to him than it was to me, but he was still strong, encouraging and calm. He said he'd be praying for me, we hugged, and went our separate ways.

I hadn't seen him again until yesterday. While it was a brief reunion, it was good.