Baggage check

I tell ya, if the amount of blogging I’ve done (er, the lack thereof) so far in 2010 is any indication of how much personal writing I’ll do this year, this blog will be shut down by June. And other than losing my $10/month therapy, that’s really not a bad thing.

“There’s a place in the world for a gambler
There’s a burden that only he can bear
There’s a place in the world for a gambler
And he sees…oh, yes he sees…
And he sees…oh, yes he sees…”

“There’s a Place in the World for a Gambler” — Dan Fogelberg

I had one of those “God encounters” recently, when I found myself in deep conversation with a total stranger about, well, everything. God, it was cathartic.

We were confined to a small space for a couple of hours, both of us with the world weighing on our respective shoulders. If we had a common thread, it was that our great life skill was our ability to put hope on hold.

I found myself sharing stories that even my friends don’t know. The stories come easily because I continually turn them around in my head like a Rubik’s cube, trying desperately to get the colors to synchronize yet only ending up with one side being perfect and the rest a rainbow mess.

“There’s a song in the heart of a woman
That only the truest of loves can release
There’s a song in the heart of a woman
Set it free…oh, set it free
Set it free…oh, set it free
Set it free…oh, set it free.”

I unwittingly uncovered a scar that I try not to poke at. It’s there — I can see it with my heart.

Another friend has encouraged me to embrace my inner Julie Andrews … to go up to the mountaintop and sing my little heart out. But I can’t find the lyrics right now. I thought I’d had them memorized, and I fear that I’ve forgotten the melody for good.

This is a time of renewal for me. A time to start over, right where I’m standing.

I’d say I want a do-over on this life of mine, but the prospect of re-living it is scarier than a battered wife facing the world for the first time with her bruises covered by 10 layers of makeup.

“There’s a light in the depths of your darkness
There’s a calm at the eye of every storm
There’s a light in the depths of your darkness
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
Let it shine…oh, let it shine
Let it shine.”

It was strangely hard to say goodbye to my newfound friend. We hugged and finally exchanged names. We looked over our shoulders and waved as the distance grew greater.

And I did something I haven’t done in a long while — I burst into tears.

Happy ones.

Because God gave me a friend at the moment I needed one most. At a time when I feel like I’m the last sane person standing in my corner of the world.

And while everything else is a screwed-up pile of shit, I got a sign that not only will I get through this, but that God is watching me and will throw me a line when I need one.

2010 isn’t starting out quite the way I thought it would, but hope is far from being lost. I guess, if I want to experience a miracle, I’ve got to make it happen myself.

And soon enough, I won’t need makeup because the bruises will go away for good.

One Lonely Response to Baggage check

  1. Caterwauling :

    […] Anyway, my friend from the plane came rushing back into my head today as I realized she was right when she said I’ve given up my life for this woman. […]