Last night I received a difficult phone call...followed by a difficult e-mail...followed by the blessing of a good night's sleep. When I awoke this morning, both situations were commended yet again to prayer. Brief prayer, I confess. Still, lifted to God. Then, while reading and praying my devotions, a beautiful vision of sunlight over Wallula Gap, heightening every ridge and valley and rock outcropping. And still...desolation. An overwhelming sadness in my soul, in the midst of thankfulness for the beauty.
Today I arrived at church to find four crews working on the new building. The ones hanging drywall, the ones doing masonry, the ones doing siding, and the ones tearing up the road and preparing for sidewalk, drainage, and whatever all! I toured, I showed it to a parishioner, I viewed, I was happy with what I saw. And still...desolation. I went to get donuts for everyone working. So many maple bars, so many cream filled, so many sugared or glazed. I love donuts. I rarely eat them any longer - but I love them. I told all the crews they were there, left them on the chancel, and was glad for the smiles and "thanks!" I got. And still...desolation.
I wonder if the desolation, the sadness, the ache that will not go away simply because I will it away, is God's reminder to me of those who cannot so easily attempt to escape those things that overwhelm, that threaten, that cause disruption and disturbance. Perhaps the desolation is a reminder that others are in that space, too, and of my call to pray for them. The list of those I know who are there is long - very long.
So I bring them before God, one at a time, asking for both God's presence with them and God's presence with me, that I learn to minister and serve as I am called. I am still desolate - but I am also thankful. I know these people because of my call, and they enrich my life in ways I had never anticipated, never expected.
For now...desolate...and thankful.
