How I wanted to be able to post something amazing, something magnificent and uplifting and inspiring, here a week after my husband has been sentenced to prison. I know that the right thing to do is to pour out my gratitude that My God has given me peace and a hope, that He has settled my mind and I am now eagerly facing the future, breathlessly awaiting to see what miraculous things He is going to do in my life and the life of my family.
And yet.....
Those are not the words I wish to write. They are not the words that are just behind the ability to speak or write at all. They are not the words that are crowding behind the irrational pull to scream, to throw and break stemware in the woods. Yet no such actions would do a thing. They would not produce a sense of God's presence in my soul. They would not change anything. They would not make the scripture work that I attempt to do every morning and most nights any more or less real.
Until this week, I've felt strong, even healthy, proud, arrogant. But right now I am sad. I am tired. I am paralyzed. I am terrified. I am alone and I don't sense God, nor direction for my family. Not saying He is not truth or that He is not real. Just saying that I wish for His peace, that he would still this mind somehow, and that he would grant sleep, that He would say "Shhhh" to me, in Psalms, in Jonah, in 1 Thess 3:8-10, Exodus 33, Mark 5, John 20, "Shhh" through any of those passages that mean so much to me.
Showing posts with label prison. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prison. Show all posts
Friday, May 21, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Finding the Humor in All Things
Some would say that I have an incredibly strange sense of humor. That is truth. I think I was born with it. My mom was a very, very funny person. She lead a difficult life, her life circumstances were wearisome. And she battled cancer for many years, eventually losing.
But she could be so very, very funny. I wish I could remember more of the the funny things she did. I do remember her starting a food fight at my grandmother's house one thanksgiving, by throwing a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto my Uncle. My grandmother was not a funny or a nice person. But my grandpa was an amazing man, and I remember even at that age, looking at him, watching her wreck havoc, watching both my grandmother, my father and my aunt disapproving as we cousins joined into the frey. I remember he was trying to not laugh. I think he was proud.
But it is important to find things that are funny, in every situation. And it seems that either my life is much funnier than the average person's, or I am just stupid enough that I do things that end up creating impossibly funny situations.
Who goes to visit their husband in prison, only to have the electricity go out and thus having to be escorted out by a guard with a flashlight while the rest of the prison goes into lockdown?? Who has someone arrested with a gun, in the woods next to their house, at 1:30 in the morning, while they stand there watching in all, disappointed because none of the cops want to take their statement? Who runs out of gas behind Target, happens to have $100 bill in their pocket and hands it to an old guy and asks him to go get gas and bring me the change, while sitting in the car with ripped out pants on?
Me.
But I think that my children have inherited my sense of humor. Is a sense of humor something that is genetic or learned? I'm not sure. But my oldest daughter is beyond hysterical.
And my smalls.....they make me laugh so hard.
They were just now outside playing frisbee. A police car, York County's finest, went ZOOMING down our road with sirens and lights.
A few minutes later, my smalls both came in, cracking up. Here is what they said:
"Mom--did you hear that police car? We were just thinking, what if it there was a riot at the jail? (My youngest has been worried about this since the electricity failure last night, so that is why it is on their minds). So mom, we were thinking, what if we heard the police car, and then we got a call from Dad at a pay phone? But then we thought, Dad wouldn't be at a payphone if the prison walls were knocked down--He'd be standing there with his big Bible preaching like Paul and Silas and telling everyone 'You can't leave, you can't leave', and then if they did, he would use his Big Bible to hit them over the head to make them stay!" And they were cracking up, laughing so hard.
Some may read this story and think, how inappropriate. But not me. I am proud of them. I received my revised divorce papers today, not a very funny thing. And I have been struggling for days, so much to find words to write what is in my mind, and all I'm coming up with is a string of blank documents in my Logos Bible Software. But I am grateful to find the words to write about humore tonight, to write about anything tonight. Sometimes laughing is what keeps us, keeps me, sane in the insanity of everything, even if what we see as hysterical, no one else does.
But she could be so very, very funny. I wish I could remember more of the the funny things she did. I do remember her starting a food fight at my grandmother's house one thanksgiving, by throwing a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto my Uncle. My grandmother was not a funny or a nice person. But my grandpa was an amazing man, and I remember even at that age, looking at him, watching her wreck havoc, watching both my grandmother, my father and my aunt disapproving as we cousins joined into the frey. I remember he was trying to not laugh. I think he was proud.
But it is important to find things that are funny, in every situation. And it seems that either my life is much funnier than the average person's, or I am just stupid enough that I do things that end up creating impossibly funny situations.
Who goes to visit their husband in prison, only to have the electricity go out and thus having to be escorted out by a guard with a flashlight while the rest of the prison goes into lockdown?? Who has someone arrested with a gun, in the woods next to their house, at 1:30 in the morning, while they stand there watching in all, disappointed because none of the cops want to take their statement? Who runs out of gas behind Target, happens to have $100 bill in their pocket and hands it to an old guy and asks him to go get gas and bring me the change, while sitting in the car with ripped out pants on?
Me.
But I think that my children have inherited my sense of humor. Is a sense of humor something that is genetic or learned? I'm not sure. But my oldest daughter is beyond hysterical.
And my smalls.....they make me laugh so hard.
They were just now outside playing frisbee. A police car, York County's finest, went ZOOMING down our road with sirens and lights.
A few minutes later, my smalls both came in, cracking up. Here is what they said:
"Mom--did you hear that police car? We were just thinking, what if it there was a riot at the jail? (My youngest has been worried about this since the electricity failure last night, so that is why it is on their minds). So mom, we were thinking, what if we heard the police car, and then we got a call from Dad at a pay phone? But then we thought, Dad wouldn't be at a payphone if the prison walls were knocked down--He'd be standing there with his big Bible preaching like Paul and Silas and telling everyone 'You can't leave, you can't leave', and then if they did, he would use his Big Bible to hit them over the head to make them stay!" And they were cracking up, laughing so hard.
Some may read this story and think, how inappropriate. But not me. I am proud of them. I received my revised divorce papers today, not a very funny thing. And I have been struggling for days, so much to find words to write what is in my mind, and all I'm coming up with is a string of blank documents in my Logos Bible Software. But I am grateful to find the words to write about humore tonight, to write about anything tonight. Sometimes laughing is what keeps us, keeps me, sane in the insanity of everything, even if what we see as hysterical, no one else does.
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