Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Lost Something

I think I lost something.

Over the last few weeks, slowly we have been moving towards a better place. Even broken relationships have been restored to some degree. The writer on the chalkboard has returned. Unfortunately, this means that some of the readers of the chalkboard are offended that she has returned. We will have to deal with that.

Other relationships are improved. Some vastly improved, of which I still need to write, but I've been so busy cooking! Others are better - the product of sitting down to talk honestly.

But I've lost something. I've lost the confidence I had in one friendship. I know it is ok, well, mostly ok... but I've lost a confidence, and with that, a great deal of joy. Now instead of knowing that I will be welcomed with joy, I stand wondering if I knock or not. If it is a good time for me to come over. I am not sure of my welcome.

So while I am happy at the restored relationship, tears still fall over the change. I've lost something. I've lost the joy of knowing I am welcomed with delight. I weigh things now, hesitate, consider, evaluate.

I never used to.

And at times, that makes me sad. This hesitation. This waiting for my doorbell to ring rather than ringing one myself. This dialogue in my head that says, "Oh, I will tell that.... oh, wait... maybe not... I don't want to be a bother."

The joy seeps out with the loss of confidence.

And then I think of a verse, "Therefore brethren, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus by a new and living way which He inaugurated for us through the veil, that is, His flesh, and since we have a high priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith..."

confidence. full assurance.

I may have lost something in a relationship here that was precious to me, but I still have confidence.... I know that when I come to Him, I have full assurance that I am welcomed with delight.

It doesn't remove sadness, but it sings firmly in my heart in the middle of pain. That firm, confident song brings me joy. Even in this.

I may have to find my way through changes and new ways here, but I have full assurance that I have an eternal, constant, never-changing welcome in the house of God.

2 comments:

Carrie said...

Can I sit on this bench with you? While we commiserate over lost confidence, wounded relationships, and fortresses, we could eat chocolate and mourn the loss of our youthful bodies.

Sound fun? ;)

Tell me more about the chalkboard lady.

Ellie said...

Oh, Carrie, today, I AM mourning the loss of my youthful body!! After dragging this not so young anymore body around rocks trying desperately to keep up with high schoolers, I deeply mourn the loss of it!

But I do not, not one bit, mourn the loss of that immaturity! :)

And chocolate sounds delightful!