Again, as in previous posts I have sat down to write this and finish it many times. My heart is so full there are no words to express it. And yet there is something therapeutic and final in putting some of it on paper.
I can remember back in high school one of my favorite things was directing our band. I loved being a drum major even though as a percussionist I could not appreciate or understand all that went into each wind instrument. I can remember listening to individual sections practicing and though they each sounded good on their own I would get chills when it all came together. To this day I am captivated by a good symphony so much so that it becomes an escape from this mortal world. There is something pure and beautiful in the sound made by an entire orchestra together that is hard to find elsewhere. And as I was driving home tonight, I was reminded how God is doing the same thing with each of our lives, making a symphony.
Sixteen years ago, I made a deal with my father. If I could raise all my band fees for that year I could get a puppy. I worked my tail off but I did it. And despite my father’s efforts to keep him outside became an indoor dog. He sat in my lap by the fire while I read my Bible each morning and watched football games with me. He went to med school with me for a while and even residency when I wasn’t working 28 hours shifts. From freshman year of high school until I moved to North Carolina for my first real job. Of course, his last few years were less energetic, but the nieces and nephews seemed to give him new life. He would just let them drag him around or pick him up or pull his tail. And at the end of each day you could usually find him at my feet. He was a staple in my life, and I think I took him for granted. At 30 years of age he had been around longer than not. I kind of had a feeling it was coming to an end, but you never think it’ll be as soon as it is. And that day came just 2 weeks after I moved to a totally new city, new state and was finally reaping the benefits of all those years in school. At least, for Teddy, I was there. When the vet asked me if I had ever been present when a dog was put down, I shook my head. Not exactly, but in that moment, I flashed back to the few families I sat across from while we did the exam to declare their child brain dead. Explaining how even though they are dead this or that may happen but that doesn’t mean they are alive or are feeling anything especially not pain. And there I was listening to a vet telling me very similar things. She said she would give me all the time I needed to hold him. But how can you ever really walk away? How do you know it’s been enough? He sat at my feet or in my lap for a lifetime of hours while I worked and struggled to be where I am today. He got me to this finish line and now he doesn’t get to enjoy it with me.
And so within 2 months of each other I lost both of the pets closest to me. The one who never left my side through the roughest of times and the one who got me from high school through fellowship. Yet, somehow, I was supposed to go on without them both. Now that I actually have a job and can spoil them. Now that all the hard work is done.
I don’t get it. I don’t understand why God would give me such a fresh bare restart. And I can’t fathom why He would give me such an amazing first job. Lots of emotions to say the least. Yet, as a song played on my drive home tonight, I realized the beauty of it all in the midst. “Even in the madness there is peace. Drowning out the voices all around me. Through all of the chaos you are writing a symphony. A symphony” (Symphony by Switch).
There are days now where it seems part of the real me is peeking through again and days where it seems I’m miles away. But the good days out weight the bad. However, this week as I drove home from work one day I realized that deep down I really felt incomplete and lacking. What I have come to realize over the last few days is that while the Lord has been near and present in a more ‘real’ sense than ever before, I have continued acting like a wounded dog limping along and having a pity party for myself. I have never grieved like this before nor started over completely without my two constant sidekicks. And yet, I also have never felt more seen by Almighty God, nor more blessed by Him.
So, here I am wrestling with myself and with God to an extent. Have these last few months made me better, or worse? I would have said better but deep down do I believe it? Why do I feel like half of the person I was only a few months ago? Is my pride manifesting itself as a false humility because I don’t ‘feel’ like the person God has made me to be? Am I tip-toeing when I should be marching? These are the hard questions now rolling around in my head. Where is the line where normal grieving stops, and sin begins? Regardless of these answers I do know a few things. My God is good. He is not only Almighty God, but He is the embodiment of all that is good, the gold standard if you will. Apart from Him there is no good. To Him this world is a piece of dust that He simply spoke into existence and I am a speck on that piece of dust. And yet, despite this insurmountable gap between the two of us, He not only is intimately involved in every detail of my life, but He died so that I may live. And if that wasn’t enough, this God, my God, He delights in me, just as I am, broken and a mess. So regardless of what I ‘feel.’ I am who He says I am- whole, complete, loved, victorious, accepted and part of a symphony that is a sweet and beautiful to His ears.
