The last several months have been more settled. I'm grateful for the repose after so much movement (literally) last year. But being still doesn't mean control. Changed happened around me and I've said many goodbyes recently. Sad goodbyes to people who were really good parts of my life.
I'm bad at goodbyes. I'm awkward, I linger, I say silly things, and then I abruptly end it. My excuse is that they're unnatural. As an eternal creature, I wasn't really made for goodbyes. When a person's presence in my life is removed, they take with them the meaning they brought to bear. Though I know another relationship will come, bringing it's own distinct joy and meaning to my soul, I still suffer the movement. In heaven, there won't be this kind of awful movement. Right relationships, right joy, right meaning will simply be and never end.
My women's pastor moved away. She gave me these flowers the last time I saw her. Her presence has been supportive, encouraging, and wonderful. She prayed for the babe that grows inside me when it was just a hope. And after she packed up her belongings and shut up the house which was once her's, she pulled from her yard the last rush of blooms and gave them as a token of her joy for me. What was has passed on, died in a way, and even though what will be next may be equally good, for now, I just don't like it. So there.
