Yesterday, I rode around and around in the parking lot at Beebe Medical Center’s outpatient lab/emergency room looking for a parking place. After about five times around and deciding that I needed to go somewhere else, a pickup pulled out of a very narrow space, and since I was driving Certain Man’s pickup, I decided that I could probably squeeze into it. And I did. It really was a tight fit, but I was able to get out of the door, into the hospital, got the labwork done that I needed, and got back out to the pickup to discover that things had actually opened up a little bit there, and it wasn’t so tight.
This morning, in those delicious, drowsy moments after I first got awake, lying there thinking about the fact that this is Saturday, and I need to do taxes, thinking that this is my last Saturday of normal living for a while, and feeling that wave of reality sweeping over me, disturbing my peace, causing my stomach to go into a knot, I turned over and snuggled deeper into the blankets, and began to pray.
This is where I always come when things are overwhelming. Here is where I know that there is a space for me. I Suddenly thought about yesterday, driving around and around in that parking place, wondering if there would ever be a spot for me, and suddenly the presence of the Lord bathed my troubled heart with such a sense of quiet and joy.
There is never a full parking lot when I am wanting to park in God’s presence. I never have to wait for someone to leave, never have to pay, never need to feel crowded or shoved back. No one ever takes my spot. No one ever tells me I am parked illegally. I brought my battered and damaged heart into His presence this morning and found a well-spring of comfort and peace. And a reminder that these emotions are not mine to cope with alone. He will be with me. He knows how anxious I feel. And that, even while I purpose to trust Him, I struggle with the pain I know is ahead, and I need to deal with the fear that wants to crowd my “parking place” in His presence.
It was getting late, and I finally pushed back the covers of my cozy nest and came on down to get busy with the day. It is a beautiful day in Southern Delaware, and even though I need to spend it working on our Income Tax, it is a GOOD day.
My beloved Uncle Luke used to say, “Make it a good day!” and I realize again that he know the secret of having good days was in the decisions made to co-operate with the Heavenly Father in whatever the day brought. Last year at this time, he was fighting the last and biggest battle of his life, and we were watching with concern and intense interest and breaking hearts. But he was a fighter, an optimist, an incredible example for us to follow, and he did not disappoint us. Today, with a battle ahead of far lesser magnitude, but the same Heavenly Father, I purpose to follow his oft repeated instructions to us, and “make it a good day”.