The puppies are asleep on the orange chair they have claimed as their own over the past couple of months, the ladder is straddling a good portion of the kitchen, the air is still holding on to the faint smell of fresh paint, Sara Groves is singing to me from two small black speakers flanking the living room, the sunlight has changed slowly from a glowing golden color to muted blue tones over the past half hour, and likewise my heart is gently transitioning from busy to thoughtful.
Phrases often swim through my mind for weeks before landing somewhere long enough for me to grapple with them. Beth always says she has the thoughts and its naming them that takes her some time…I am the opposite…the thoughts have names and pictures…like banners in the wind…I hear the words inside and see the scenes…but they parade through without a pause… in some strange way its like we have to become acquaintances before I can grab a hold and really discover them. Lately the banner in the wind has been, simply “hope comes in strange places”…
“HOPE COMES IN STRANGE PLACES”
I have been hearing those words echo around inside my mind and heart, followed briskly by scenes I know: sweet little Joseph with his impossibly brown eyes, my cousins and their baby who lived for only 4 days several Septembers ago, thoughts of Africa with scenes my eyes have not yet beheld…. I have tipped my hat to the bold banner, knowing before long the wind will die down and it will land somewhere in me…knowing it will get to a place where I can sit down with it.
Well I am sitting with it now. I have a feeling its going to be one of those long all-night-over-a-pot-of-coffee kind of conversations.
Listening to Sara Groves helps.
Her chorus of the title track of her newest record “Add to the Beauty”:
“Redemption comes in strange place, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are
And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That’s burning up inside”
….well that chorus is somehow inextricably tied to what I am wrestling with right now.
Hope flirts with me in small moments during the day, but I can never really get my hands on it. Do you know that feeling? Hope sometimes comes to me in moments of good- when the curtain is pulled back and for a short time things ‘make sense’- hope used to come to me like that a lot. But the longer I live, the more I see behind the curtain in times of darkness and tragedy and heaviness.
I am crossing my fingers and hoping this is some step toward maturity and not depression. But really more often that not I see beauty in the darkest of places. I didn’t even think twice about hope being connected with some of the most heart breaking scenes of my life. I did not question it. It felt….. obvious, even natural.
If there was to be a ‘tragic’ chapter of my life thus far, it would certainly be a re-telling of this year. And yet this season could also be as easily titled “God’s Presence”. hmmm….
I am starting to wonder if tradegy acts like an X-ray…revealing what’s broken in the structure of who we are?
Perhaps brokenness is the melody of life? And hope is the striking harmony? the one that gives us goose bumps? that brings us to tears?
Maybe brokenness is the ‘strange’ place where hope turns up by sudden suprise….
welcome to the wondering wanderings of kate…*grin*
feel free to chip in your two (or more!) cents.