Letting It All Out

Yesterday was a long day. It started before 6 AM, even though my alarm was set for half-past. Seriously though, nothing gets you awake and out of bed like a math test and an essay in the morning, then knowing you have to pack up your classroom for the afternoon, and go to your friend's memorial service in the evening.

Busyness? Stress-ness? Tiredness? Chaotic-ness? Sadness?
Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.

But. Also.

Accomplishment. Peace. Energy. Smoothness. Joy.

Because that is they way God works. In the midst of our crazy human messy strivings, He lets in light, provides stability, and helps us achieve what we set out to do. He does it with His Spirit, but also with people, books, nature.

Yesterday He mostly used people.

So we didn't have to make multiple trips to Corning on a single day—which happens with surprising frequency (or not-so-surprising frequency, considering church, friends, business, school, and Wegmans are there)—we all went up for the kids' art class. Dad had a business meeting, and mom was meeting with Mrs. H, so I plopped down at the library with computer and textbooks and enjoyed the relative quiet that makes studying slightly easier. Actually, that library is hardly quiet what with people almost constantly talking. Add in overweight, hairy 30 year old men who smile at you whenever you look up from your school, and the experience is rather distracting. And...disgusting. To say the least.

But I did get bunches of school done (or at least, everything that was on the list), and I got to carry on a rather lengthy conversation with soon-to-be-7-just-lost-her-front-tooth Elizabeth, get a smile from Mikaela, and a laugh from Jeff and Rachel. Quite productive.

After that we drove through the rain to Wegmans to get some supper. I think God wants me to go vegan, because I had joked about it that afternoon, and then when I got my veggie sub I realized, just as I was about it bite into it, that she hadn't put cheese on it. Who doesn't put cheese on a veggie sub? Unless they feel led by God to make me go vegan, of course? Ha. Ha.

Anyhow, the Slacks had graciously invited us...er...accepted our invite....to crash at their house for the hour before the memorial. I definitely needed that hour, not simply to change into my skirt, but to let my mind relax...or process information that is very normal. Which is being with the Slacks. Even though it was quite chaotic—making supper/eating supper, Mariah starting a fire, the fire alarm going off, the men debating over jeans or suits, girls doing hair, dogs going crazy, Jordan playing guitar and singing worship songs—it was good chaos. Soothing emotionally. Brought back memories of when we practically lived with each other.

A little before 7 PM we headed to Kent Philips, where we were having Chris's memorial. I knew it was going to be hard, but I was not sure how much. It didn't take long for me to figure out. Jordan and PJ started singing the opening worship song...and I was like, "there she goes." Yeah. I cried. A lot. Poor Mariah's shoulder bore the brunt of it.

However, the tears were different from a couple weeks ago; no longer confused, or upset. This time they were just sad tears. When you miss someone, you cry, right? So I cried for Chris. But after a certain point, as Mr. Slack and Mr. Snapp talked to us, as the evening wore on, it became less, "I wish you were with us," and more, "I wish we were with you." Because I hope—hope with a hope that is almost as good as knowing—that we all will see Chris again in heaven.

There was a wonderful amount of people there, from all walks of life, and it was neat to see who all loved Chris and who he loved. Towards the middle they had an open mic for people to come up and share their memories...that was particularly touching, because the stories, and the people they came from, were so diverse. It was nice to all miss him together, though, and be there for each other. Nice to all be crying together, so I figured no one would think I was an overly emotional girl when I went up, grabbed the mic, and practically lost it in front of everyone. All well...but I just sort of felt like I had something to say, and when that happens, you can't keep it in, even if you try.

By the end of the night, lying in bed about midnight, I felt like we had had a power outage. And you say, say what? Well, you know when the power goes out the house gets really quiet? The fridge compressor turns off, the computer stops whirring, the dryer stops, the AC quits (in the summer anyway). The result is that the house is extremely, oddly quiet. Peaceful. Yet, there is also that feeling that something is not quite right. The electricity is supposed to be on, the house is supposed to sound lived in. So you wait. You hope it will come back on soon, turn everything to rights. Similarly, I kinda feel like the power is out in our world. It's not supposed to be—we're supposed to be perfect, filled, made complete in the Father. Several thousand years ago, though, we pulled the plug on perfection, and are now dealing with the consequences. Yet even so, we still have that quiet, that peace, right now in the midst of this confusion, thanks to the Comforter. And we still have the hope that the lights will come back on soon.