Yesterday I was brought back to the words of my acupuncturist: that even when you are focused on and connected to the Divine, life can hit you out of nowhere and throw you off balance.
That was pretty much yesterday in a nutshell. One second I was thinking how great it was that I kinda had my crap together and things were under control and literally the next second full on, meltdown crisis in the parking lot. And it’s so much harder to deal with when the pain belongs to someone I love, but I can’t fix it. I know the cause of it, but not the cure. It breaks me. Maybe I need to be broken. I don’t know.
A couple of weeks ago my aunt emailed me a psalm reading because I was complaining that God wasn’t shining His flashlight brightly enough on my path.
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.
It wasn’t really the answer I wanted (I wanted to know what was ahead on the path), but the words have been sitting in my heart ever since.
Today I was doing some studies, trying to rebalance myself again, and came across something similar. A reminder that it’s a process, that endurance is needed and that the light is always there.
So, I got a little angry with God and went out and had my usual field temper tantrum asking why if the light was there it couldn’t be bright enough so I can see down the path and know that everything will be ok.
This is a lesson in faith, learning to surrender control. I don’t like it. I like the illusion I have control enough to keep us safe and looked after. I totally don’t.
I realized that maybe the light is only being shone brightly where I’m standing because I need to pay attention to what is happening now, not looking ahead down the path.
I also don’t like this. But I think it’s important. There are things happening that need my attention right now. And in this moment where the light shines we are safe. That should be enough. Should. It’s what I’m gong to focus on anyway – I’m letting g of all the other distractions and looking at what is important.
And for the moments when it’s not enough, I have Drishti. He forces me to have faith and trust when I’m scared, he makes me learn when to hold on and let go, he reminds me how to be in the moment. He’s helping fix my soul.
Tootling around the field with him, that is happiness.