A tiny seed is planted in the rich soil, carefully watered and soon takes root. Leaves, stems and buds gradually appear. As the sun lavishes the tiny plants with its light, the buds begin to unfold, revealing the beauty kept hidden before. Flowers full of vibrant colour dot the luscious green leaves, opening to their fullest; then just as effortlessly, the blossoms shrivel up, petals fall to the ground, leaves wilt and dry up, making way for the next year when it will all begin anew.
I am no stranger to the concept that life is fleeting. As beautiful as a flower may be, as much joy as it brings in the moment, it will be forgotten. I remember my great grandmother’s garden full of vibrant yellow and red tulips; her yard speckled with forgot-me-nots. The flowerbed is planted in my memories but I cannot single out any individual bloom.
Tiger lilies bring to mind my beloved grandma’s backyard with the bush of orange and black spotted lilies, standing out against the green backdrop. But they are just flowers. They are without names or history. They are here one day and gone tomorrow. It is humbling and saddening to remember that our lives are just as quick.
The one keen difference is we do have names and history. We have goals, dreams and more importantly: souls.
This evening, as I baked my husband some yummy peanut butter cookies, I began thinking aloud about how I no longer felt settled. Ray, my dearest, listened patiently as I tried to put into words the heavy sadness that had just fell on my heart. He helped me form my thoughts and articulate what the underlying issues were. And that is what we concluded: I no longer feel settled because I do not feel like I belong anywhere.
When you are in school day after day, the odds of you forming meaningful relationships are much greater. As an adult, I have found my world suddenly closing in. I am on an island with my husband and our daughter, with the occasional visit from family. If it weren’t for my parents, I would feel entirely isolated but they make their way out here at least once a week to visit and mix things up a little.
I do not feel home though. I like our little house but I no longer love it. It hurts too much to love it because I have finally come to grips with the fact we are outgrowing it. When we bought this home, we were a bit naive and optimistic that this would be our raise-a-family and grow-old-together home. It is not like we can afford a new home right now but I wanted things to be more permanent for my children, since my childhood was anything but. I wanted our baby girl to grow up in the house that was home when we left the hospital with her.
A year ago, I could not have dreamed of leaving Florida. There was too much here for us. Suddenly, I feel so disconnected. Not because of the house alone but our lack of deep relationships, meaningful friendships and a true sense of belonging. People are moving on that I realize now are merely acquaintances that I have grown accustomed to. I care for them, I am glad to see them but I could not even tell you their favourite food, name one goal they have or list any time we have hung out for the sake of hanging out.
It takes two to cultivate a relationship, so I understand there must be something I am doing or not doing but at the same time I get depressed thinking it could all be squarely on my shoulders.
Older family members are passing away. My parents are grandparents! I am a wife and mother. There is little left of the world I knew ten years ago.
I am sorry that this is not an uplifting entry…I do not have the turnaround, neat and tidy, but-this-is-why-I-still-smile conclusion. Every now and then I feel compelled to write in the midst of a storm not just when the rainbow is arching across the sky. This is one of those times where the clouds refuse to part. I am soaked to the bone and while I am scanning the sky for patches of blue sky, all I see is black. Friday was a prelude. Not that life is as grim as I paint it. I just feel blue. And when you feel this way, it is much harder to see the light through the downpour…
I hate when there is a void between me and God…funny how when the storm is at its strongest, I am at my weakest spiritually. I need a good dose of prayer and God’s Word. A big hug from my husband and snuggling my baby girl sounds good too. Hopefully, the clouds will part soon.
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