Gratitude: November 10

169. I think it would be easy to say that I’m thankful for being safe or for not being under water or for having all my things or for not being in a country where some natural disaster is ripping life to shreds right now, but I’m struggling with thanking God for those things today. It’s not that I don’t appreciate them or value them or see how sovereign God is when bad things happen because, believe me, I do – I give huge fist pumps and leg kicks to all things God because I can look back and see how He’s written His word in Rock and Sand and none of it has moved because He is above all and His thoughts and ways and habits make my brain implode. And I’m not even upset that other people are hurting and “I’m not” because we’re all hurting in some way, shamelessly, because we’re human and things suck sometimes or don’t go our way and everyone around us is human so mistakes and hurt are bound to happen.

I think the hardest thing about sitting right where I’m at – in my cute daybed with two pillows behind me and a warm cup of tea slowly making its way cold just to my left and a laptop under the rhythm of my fingers – is that I’m here.

This is where I’m supposed to be and I see that and know it and feel it deep down in a rush of the mighty movements God makes and I’m excited about the work I’m doing and the way things are moving and shaking in this place, but I’m in this weird spot where I don’t understand why I’m not moving and why I’m not going and why there’s a need somewhere, but I’m not helping fill it or pray for it with my hands on their shoulders and my tears meeting the same ground as their bare feet. I’m sure this qualifies somewhere under the “5 stages of post-word race-stress-disorder” if you go back in the files and blogs that have been blogged and look for it, but I think there’s more than that. It’s a compassion and a feeling of the things that other people feel and an ownership of sorts of all the places I’ve been and if God is everywhere and He feels an ounce of the kindred love I feel for each of the places I’ve been, even if it’s two islands up, He’s got to be a mess right now.

I am thankful for the old and the new: for the one year celebration of sweet Langley Jo and my first ever carved pumpkin and my first ever plant-something-by-myself adventure, and my first visit to Cartersville First Baptist and how my childhood home met my current home in the form of the Mortons moving to Cartersville and the memories I have from childhood and college and the Race that shape everything in the now and probably in the future and the God that runs circles around time.

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