Whatever Happens
We are in the middle of the story. What is is, but we are not at the end of the story.
No more than the hummingbird I’m watching.
What triggered this thought was a pileup of people in need of prayers: a friend’s call about an upcoming procedure, a mom puzzling over her daughter’s situation, another friend moving away, a man concerned about money.
Worries and suffering. It’s everywhere and logically complicated.
No rewind button to make it disappear. Oh my goodness, there were definitely times I’d have pushed such a button to rewind time, go back and do things better, smarter, make everything okay for everybody.
So what does it come down to? We are moving forward. Forever forward.
We have today. I watch a little hummer that won’t let go and fly south. (He’s fighting butterflies for flowers, though sugar water is still available!) Whatever happens, we only have this hour, this day if we make it through midnight.
It’s enough. God says it is, so it is.
Today’s grace from God is enough grace, even for a family pileup of pain.
Sigh. Letting go of how it was. Unseen hooks in everything. Hard even when you realize you are in the middle of a story.
Maybe we are learning how to fall, holding on to nothing, held by nothing. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s about being content with how things are even when things look wrong to us.
Read any novel. Risks and griefs are in there. Read the Bible. Risks and griefs.
Whatever happens, it’s another part of life worth living. Even if suffering is involved.
Whether a hurricane, betrayal, death, wildfire, or robbery, there is suffering. A bounced check, the car totaled, alone on a holiday, the power going out, losing a job.
If you are human and love, you know plenty about suffering.
We just haven’t perfected our fall or breaking yet. In my mind, that would look like saying “thank you” to God though I don’t know where anything is going or what’s happening.
If we are going to keep loving people, I figure we will keep on having big and little deaths in our lives.
Just part of the story. Like a good swim, long walk, reading a book.
I’m believing if one thing is taken away, there’s a higher reason. And I can ask God for the next right thing. I don’t have to fight what’s happening or why.
Letting go means not fighting it. Oh, to be that evolved after major pain! I am not there. But then, I’m in the middle of my story.
Whatever happens, God has a pocket of miracles for each of us. I just forget to ask for them. Maybe you do, too.
Meanwhile, laugh lots, cry tears, watch a bird. May heaven shine its light on you.
Blessings,
Pat Durmon
patdurmon.com
To comment, write under the photos of the hummingbirds.
Thank you!
Photo by Martha Beard Ryburn of a hummingbird in Monticello, Arkansas, September, 2017.
Photo by Christin Scallion of a hummingbird near its feeder in Norfork, Arkansas, Summer, 2017.