Getting Unlost

“Double, double, toil and trouble.”

This incantation seems to haunt my days. In the morning I wake at odd hours. When it’s dark. When its silent. My thoughts are like ghosts whispering. I am tired but cannot rest.

Can you relate?

Everyone has trouble. Be it work or home, we all struggle with something. Arthritis. Insomnia. Unbridled anger. Chaos in the workplace. Hurt feelings. So, we try to rest and find it elusive.  Worse, we go searching for rest…and get lost.

We manage as best we can in a world filled with cruelty or worse–apathy and disregard for others. People are doing evil things to us and so we end up perpetuating evil in return. I have found it so in the past few weeks that my workplace has become a place of torment. I rise and put on my “good attitude with positive intent” hat but by the end of the day I am filled with disgust and rage. I drive home praying and trying to forgive but resentment has taken room. I am exhausted trying to be rid of it.

Saturdays have become a day of decompression. I clean. I listen to music. I cry. I grieve this world and its hardships. I grieve injustice and selfishness and greed. I long for simple things but sometimes they are hard to find.

This morning I woke earlier than I wanted and there was a thunderstorm of thoughts happening in my head. Sometimes I wish I had earmuffs for my brain. Is there something, anything that will calm the storm? Storms have a way of disorienting us to our place in this world. We grasp at branches trying to steady ourselves and get sucked deeper into the madness. When the storm settles, we find ourselves in a place we are unfamiliar with and have to find our way back.

I found a map this morning by way of Psalm 103.

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” 

It’s hard to remember “the benefits of God” while being pelted with hail. When the car is getting dinged and the shingles are blowing off the roof, I begin to question what He is doing. But so often when I am just disgusted with God and sick to death of being smacked in the face with another piece of ice, there is a moment of beauty and grace so sublime, I unintentionally catch my breath.

I’ve had several of those moments this week.

My son and I were on the way home from an appointment when a bald eagle swooped down in front of my car, circled around and flew over us again. It was uncanny. Simple. Stupendous. I slowed down to take in the moment (thanking God no one was driving behind me). It was as if all of the clouds parted, and a bright ray of sunshine broke through on our faces. We were in the heart of the city, but this moment transported us to another world.

The second moment was when I walked out of work and a solitary robin was singing its heart out from a little tree in the landscaping. I stopped to listen and even whistled back. I wondered how a little bird could bring so much cheer to my world-weary heart. But that song–that music from nature–was like an eraser to the evil of the day.

Another day I walked out of work and a flock of Canadian geese were honking at each other. Again, I stopped to watch and listen. The flock were together but in pairs. They were sort of walking around together in pairs with their necks stretched out in front of them. I wondered what they were saying to each other during that show of vocal athletics. The people from work were exiting the building while I stood there and I felt the pressure to move along, but I decided to stay. For a few minutes I just stayed in that moment of beauty of grace.

I’ve been thinking about these moments this morning as I watch the birds from my kitchen window. The mockingbird delights in the walnuts and peanut butter I put out. As does the wren. The titmouse, nuthatch and red-headed woodpecker come for peanuts. And the goldfinches are sorting out thistle seeds. And here I sit crying because they are so beautiful and yet their lives are so fleeting. They eat, and sing, and fly. They build a nest to raise their young. Their life is only a moment. And they are wholly dependent on finding food every day to sustain themselves. One would ask why they even exist if only to be born and to die. It seems a terrible injustice. But God created them, and they are wonderful. I am so grateful for all of them. They make my heart so happy!

And suddenly I am finding my way back. I see the path. It’s becoming more clear the troubles the world throws at me are just raindrops. I see the sun. I see the corner of a rainbow.

“As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children’s children.” Psalm 103:15-17

Jesus said, “in this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world.”

Because we don’t only have trouble in this world, you see. We have beauty. Kindness. Grace and mercy. We have doves cooing and woodpeckers banging their heads on dead wood. We have people with no earthly reason to show us love who embrace us while we weep. It’s time to stop staring into the darkness and to set our minds and hearts on the light. That is how we get unlost.

We are all dying. We are really no different than the birds. But while we live, we must keep trying to sing. When we sing, we give others hope to help find their way back to the path.

I hope you enjoyed this song. Now go! Fly and sing!