In Your Absence

This week another friend left the office. Without a word or warning, he was gone. The news of his departure came as a shock to everyone, most especially to me. Returning to the office today, the air was heavy and still. It was as if the walls and everyone within were holding their breaths. Stunned. Like a punch in the gut, we were collectively gasping for air.

Everyone pushed through the day wearing plastered smiles. People busied themselves – heads down, working hard, near silent – faces betraying the confusion inside. And no one – NO ONE – mentioned him.

While I was away, they’d quietly gone through his office and tried to erase his presence. After seven years there, four in that little nook in the corridor, they went about the day as if he never existed. But I remembered. And as I made my way out, closing up shop for the week, I found myself in his office, something I tend to do with each of the coworkers (friends) who have now since left the office over the months.

I took inventory of the state of the near sterile room. New was a sign taped to a chair reading “Please vacuum and dust in here.” Gone were the piles of wires and cables, programming CDs and manuals. Gone were all the little kitschy souvenirs sent to him over the years – the carved wooden turtle from his brother’s trip to Greece years back, the beads from the office Mardi Gras celebration the year before – everything about him had disappeared and was replaced by a trash bag slumped in the corner.

I stood there for a moment and looked out the window, recalling the sound of birds and the sweet smell of rain that would waft through the halls when it was too warm in the office and he’d decided to crack the windows. I slid by that wall I spent many a day propped up against as we shot the breeze; walked past the table where I would sit my things on occasion when my hands were full and the 5-minute check in quickly became a 30-minute conversation, sprinkled with laughter and stories. I made my way to his desk and remembered the times I sat against that corner as he’d walk me through a problem I was having with my computer or the latest collection of photos he’d taken. I looked at the now empty chair and nearly cried. The weight of his absence still teases, still haunts.

As I sit typing this, the glow of dusk slowly seeping into evening, I wonder what’s next. For me. For him. For us. There’s a hope that we’ll continue these conversations and our lives will still intersect, but I just don’t know for sure. I’m realizing all too well that I’m more sentimental than I fear; that absence doesn’t necessarily make the heart grow fonder in every situation, or for everyone. That we all get wrapped up in our own little lives and our attention to those in the periphery becomes less and less a concern. So many slip through the cracks. So many already have. I hope this will be spared. Only time and grace know for sure. But for now, I miss him.

Pardon Me

You'll have to excuse me - I've not been in a very good place lately. Don't know when these gray clouds will lift, but I'm hoping they will any day now.

Until then... pray for me, friends. I'm in desperate need of some encouragement, time and kind words.

Roller Coaster

Within the next few days I'll find out one of three things:
1.) I'm being laid off
2.) I'll be put on "temporary" part-time status
3.) I somehow survived the most-recent round of cut-backs (Hallelujah!)

As a crowd of people enjoyed themselves at some friends' housewarming tonight, I told my friend, Bekah, about the stress that has me threadbare and running on fumes. As she shared about a dream that reminded her of God's faithful trustworthiness, I confessed that I felt like I was on a roller coaster - chugging along and fearful of the impending, unforeseeable drop.

It's going to be fine - you'll see! He's gonna come through and do something amazing! Just trust that God loves you and cares for you; that He's got you in His hands... I hope you find rest [in that]!

I hope so, too, Bekah, because well... I hate roller coasters. Like, A LOT.

The Marathon of Despair

Running from God keeps you from "breathing" and living the life he intended for you to live. You thereby rob other people of the blessing God intends to give them through you, because you're less than you were meant to be...

[an excerpt from Surprised By Grace by Tullian Tchividjian]

It's Not You, It's Me...

No, really! Maybe it is me after all...

I've been thinking a lot about why I'm still single. Completely unattached and having never even come close to it (the being attached). I'm beginning to believe something may actually be horribly wrong with me...

While on a short drive the other day, I realized something that saddened and scared me to the core - I have a problem trusting people, men in particular. The lingering aftershocks of my dad's betrayal of our family, I suppose.

There was a time in my life when I was completely at ease with guys. In fact, I'd had more guy friends than girls for most of my teen years. I was one of the boys. I look back on these last years since my parents' divorce and see that the faces in my circle have changed a great deal. Nary a man has been allowed to come close enough to see (and know) the real me. Save for one who took that privileged opportunity to see me and ripped my trust in him apart. And now here I am "[thirty-one], and well past my due date," to borrow from My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

I'm (still) more broken than I feared. The cracks I've piled mortar in continue to tear. No matter how desperately I try to smooth out the surface, debris is everywhere lately. I'm falling apart.

I need to be restored. Again. I need to remind myself that I am loved. I need God to open my eyes (and heart) to the romance He started before a breath was taken or a word uttered from these lips. The love my wayward heart is so desperate to find - this life-altering, epic, shake-you-to-the-core love I dream about and long for - has already happened. It's already been poured out. I've been in the thick of this heated, passionate pursuit of His and turned a blind eye to it. Thankfully, despite me, His love (and forgiveness) knows no end. No matter how foolish, no matter the times I run toward other loves, Christ's love for me remains pure since the day He poured (His) life into me. And I know that as I crawl back, broken heart in hand, rejected and dismissed, He will remain.

Thankfully, this love story continues. Not because of anything I do. For once, I'm glad to say that it actually isn't about me at all.

Solitude

There are days when I need to be alone, completely holed away like a troll. To rest. To think. To recharge. To... be.

True, I could have wandered out into the blazing heat, walked along shaded paths, baked in the sun or found a pool to swim in. I could have had my fill of ice cream or refreshing lemonade out on the patio of a nearby restaurant or cafe. But instead, I decidedly chose to be a hermit.

Delusions of grandeur make me feel a lot better about myself.
- Jane Wagner

Stop! In the Name of... What?

It's a funny thing when your heart has decided upon someone. Because no matter what the rest of you thinks, the heart will undoubtedly continue on its wayward path. Often misguided. Usually along a winding, convoluted road of no return. I wonder if my heart is at that place right now.

The man I have decided against still makes my heart skip when he says my name; still brings a flush to my cheeks whenever I see him; and still steals my breath when I'm not careful. I want to be indifferent towards him, but I can't.

I want out of this, but how? How do I move on from someplace I never quite set foot upon? How do I stop the daydreams? How do I stop the waiting and hoping? How do I stop him?