Wednesday, April 18, 2012
I heard the car door slam this morning and looked up at the clock. 5:45AM. I didn't realize my husband had to leave quite that early to meet his friend for their run. But, as usual when Drew leaves the house and we are still in bed, I cannot get back to sleep until I check to make sure the front door is locked. So up I rose in the cold, wrapped myself in my favorite fuzzy orange blanket, checked the door, mentally thanked Drew for remembering to lock it, went to the bathroom and shuffled back to the bedroom. As I shed the blanket and snuggled back under the covers, from out of my peripheral vision, I saw a huge mass rising up from under the covers beside me.
I screamed out loud.
Drew exclaimed, "Honey, I'm so sorry I scared you. Are you okay?" As I breathed loudly and tried to still my racing heart, I began to realize that Drew had never left. I had actually heard our next door neighbor's car drive away.
How did I go through that whole process...the wrapping myself up; the door check; the bathroom run; the getting back in bed...without ever seeing my husband? All massive 6' 5", 200 lbs of him?
Simple. I never looked.
And there I found my daily spiritual metaphor...
God has been beside me forever, all glory and splendor and infinite size of Him ...
In my sleepy fog and unawareness.
In the cold and the dark and the fear of night.
In the checking of locks to my heart, my dreams, my very soul...wanting no stranger to be let in, but encouraging wide, open doors to those I love.
In my thanksgiving for my husband, my children, my life, both when uttered and when overlooked.
In the emptying of the waste that contaminates my world.
In the the comfort of the coccoon in which I ensconce myself...the billowy warmth of my home and hearth.
Yes, so many times I've forgotten to look for Him.
And yes, I never cease to be surprised that He has never left. That he deems me worthy. That I am the bride to His bridegroom, even on the days when I forget the oil for my lamp. That He is turning over to watch me and hold me. That He rises up within the room of my very being.