I was bothered. I was agitated. The awe of sunshine and palm trees no longer held a place in my heart? Loneliness found its spot in me and over-stayed its welcome. Was it welcomed? It was so familiar. Where a foggy pain filled existence once reigned an impossible illuminating spotlight of sunshine now resided.
In Boston I found it hard to live in the known, living in the aftermath of what had happened. Now in Florida the unknown begged to be familiar. Common small talk seemed to always lead to where is your family and how about your mother? One day my answers became overly blunt and stayed that way. She was murdered. Plain, simple honest and abrupt. It was like removing a band-aid. A band-aid that was smothering my pain, harshly removed to cover up and shield over an unwanted conversation. The worst part was I was doing it to myself. Was it easier? I don’t know. I felt as if I was cutting through probing questions and dished out the nitty-gritty for the person asking the questions. It hurt. It sucked. It was utterly lousy, but to say she was murdered and move on in a fashion that halted any further questioning, that’s how I was going to deal. That’s how I dealt. As much as a normal part of the conversation it is when getting to know someone to ask about their parents and family, the question and its follow-ups were the nails on a chalkboard of my life. One ladies face after hearing my answer was almost as if I introduced her to the term murder itself. I was feeling more and more awkward in this new sunny state.
Psalms 25:16 Turn to me and be gracious, for I am lonely and afflicted.
…Every move I made, every covered up emotion, every nonchalant response, none of it changed the fact that I was afflicted and deeply lonely. For a long time I wasn’t in tuned with His call to me. I blinded myself from everything including all the ways He was gracious to me. That never stopped Jesus from pursuing me. He never stopped. He just never stopped. Even when I had.