2003-12-05 - 12:32 a.m.
I just got off the phone with my aunt, returned to bed, and got up again after noticing that I had been staring at the lines of light falling upon my closet door for thirty minutes with my teeth clenched together.
Catching up with family just before going to sleep is not a good idea. (I told Adam, only hours ago, that I finally understand why people include "winding down" in their daily schedule as I slid pent-up stress through my teeth in measured breath.) Unless your family is miraculously healthy, stable, and full of joy, then you know what I mean.
When I left California--about eleven months ago--I started praying for God to work mightily in the immediate families that make up The Stusiaks, so that we would see a huge transformation in our hearts. A little while ago, I began to worry that I had made a mistake or done something to anger Him that He decided not to answer my request by the end of 2003. His movement is slow and steady like the plod of a giant, but He is among us.
I never thought that I would live near my family. After the age of four I was pulled increasingly away from the family fold, fully disordering my reality. Because my extended family were less and less a part of my life, I believed that they too were distant from each other. It was the same for both sides of the family.
Having been raised by my parents I know the why's of our distant, although they (the why's) do not mean as much to me as they once might have. As I hear about the wounds of my family, the more I wish to be involved in their lives... and the more I feel the burden of miles between us. Lord, what are You teaching me through this?
I can only imagine that He is teaching me patience and humility. He works in His own time and will answer the good desires of my heart one by one through physical manifestation or with peace. Apparently, my presence in California would be nothing significant; so I am here, waiting, while He shows me His power. I should not think that I can do anything at all.
Anyway, I wonder if my children, perhaps being raised far from either set of grandparents, will consider living near home? I honestly worry about this, knowing full well that I should not worry.
I know what it is like to feel the clock ticking, to feel the distance and incapableness of loving enough, and to not know what it looks like all the time; and I have no answers. Right now, it does not matter that I feel this too, for I have not yet learned anything from it. All this offers me is a place to understand your tears, but no words of wisdom and no comfort save that of a hug.
