I Remember This Feeling [steffeny]

I remember this feeling.

Oh this familiar feeling. I remember it well. Though it’s been long since I last felt it.

That feeling of quick release after being so stuck. Still stuck. But that moment of quick and quiet release.

It happened in Africa.

Stuck in Rwanda. Hard questions. Hard sights. No answers. Stuck. We were stuck there.
Dead bodies. Curious children. Crying babies. Machetes hacking. Hacking. The cold. Detached unfeeling feeling floating in the air. Ever present. Pain. Pain. Brokenness. How do we deal? Where was God? What is justice? What is mercy? This is too big. We’re choking. We’re choking. We aren’t breathing.

And so we escaped. Girls piled on a small bed. Piled on top of one another. Arms linked and legs intertwined. In a pile we laid there. Staring together. Together staring at the small screen of a laptop.

Grey’s was our salvation. The moment. The one opportunity to escape this world of questions. And answers. Solutions. And stuckness.

Oh how we were stuck there.

And here I am. In this house. In this house in St. Louis. Stuck. The drama of the medical show helping me to escape for one brief moment the questions. The feelings. The confusion that I have. Giving me reason and permission to shed a tear that has been stuck. Giving me distance and some sort of perspective on all of the things that are so in my face. So zero-ed in on. So inescapable. The things that make me stuck.

What are these things? I don’t even know. They’re too close. So close. Only after this show can I even realize that I am feeling my feelings. Help. I’m afraid I can’t make it. Why am I here? What is Jesus doing? Is he still leading me? Is he still loving me? Even when I look away and put things before him? Even when I act like a loser and forget the most important things? Im forgetful. Im not on track. Im not making him happy.

And slowly. Slowly by feeling my feelings, I can start to feel His too. You see, that’s where I was wrong. I am making him happy. Just by resting. By watching this show. By hearing and reconnecting with my heart. By feeling. By embracing the human condition. We are forgetful. We are, at times, not on track. But oh how we make him happy. We make him so so happy. And that’s something we shouldn’t ever forget. He loves you and he loves me, just because we are. Just by our nature. Just because of who He is. He can’t help but love us even when we’re disgusting and covered with mud and boogers. He loves us sooo much. And if watching Grey’s or Private Practice or whatever helps me to remember my heart. Or my humanity. Or who He is. Then that’s the way my heart at that moment in that place is called to worship. Who knew watching prime time television could be a way for this heart worship?!

Thank you Jesus for who you are and how you care for us. Dad, my heart feels lame and limp, weak and waning. Oh how I need you. Teach these eyes to be fixed on you. I love you Oh Lord, my pops.



Aww sweet shalom.