Photo Credit: © 2006 Lynne Holder

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Temporary vs. Eternal

I've been silent on the blog awhile, a bit on purpose, a bit not. 

Honestly, words have escaped me, having grown weary of nothing new or happy to write about. If reading another post here is boring to you, imagine how it feels to be in these flip flops.

Everything in our lives feels tenuous and temporary. 

Why is it such hard work to be grateful and content with what is? What's wrong with me?

Enter Guilt. 

I should be better than this by now. 

Why the word "tenuous" came to mind, I'm not sure. I don't normally use this word in the course of conversation, so out of curiosity I looked up Merriam-Webster's definition.

ten-u-ous: having little substance or strength: weak, flimsy: shaky

No wonder. That sounds pretty spot on as a descriptor of my world., exhausted...and weak. Plodding through every day feeling as though we're on the shaky precipice of a very tall cliff, always one minor thing from a major meltdown, my soul bleeds easily and the tears flow without warning. 

I try to mentally shake myself out of it.

It could be so much worse. Be grateful. You can walk, talk, see, hear, and feel. The kids are all healthy and prospering. Laurie's and Ross's wedding is coming up. Your husband loves you. Stella brings sunshine and laughter where none seemed to break through. You have friends who care and pray for you. 

Gratitude is being overshadowed and wearing thin. 

First cousin to tenuous is temporary.

tem-po-rary: lasting for a limited time 

My daughter, Jennifer, writes a fantastic blog about her family's adventures, titled Jen and Jon Plus Kate. 

Coincidentally, she blogged recently about her sense of everything in her life being temporary. Her words mirrored my feelings in many ways. For example:

Being so far from our families and the places I hold dear stretches my worn soul too far some days.

And even though Jennifer's daughter is just 3, she is already realizing what I did as her mom:

Her childhood is fleeting. My job is temporary.

And as though she had crept into my mind and read the thoughts there:

Today, my heart is crying out for just a tiny taste of permanent.

What would it feel like to know on a gut level that something wasn't going to break or wear out or die? That I could be with my people and my dogs and that wouldn't change? 

I'm craving eternal tonight. 

eter-nal: having infinite duration; everlasting

Jennifer shared this verse:

2 Corinthians 4:18 (NIV)
"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

I want to fix my eyes on what is unseen, but the seen is all that's in my face. All I see is the seen. I'm away from my people and places I love. I miss having a horse and riding, now more than ever. I love my friends, who live more comfortably than I can dream. I work myself into the ground for grocery money and a dose of everyone's drama, while I put a smile on my face. Everywhere I turn, the seen feels eternal, and I scream inside,  

I can't do this anymore. 

But I have to. I have to keep on keeping on. I have to choose this one thing, one more day, with my last ounce of strength:

God, I trust you. 

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