I started reading the Gospel of Luke back in April, before Easter. I finished it this week. That last chapter was really intense.
Tomorrow is Pentecost. I’m being dressed in white. I don’t know why, but that’s what my Daddy wants me to wear to mass. Even a white bow, too.
It was a tough week. I learned that my brain doesn’t always remember things at certain times, and sometimes I don’t have as much control over how I feel as I think I do. My Brother is so amazing and loving – He is so good at getting my attention and explaining things to me, even when I won’t listen to everyone else.
I have a story to tell you. About a chair.
When I first started college, I wasn’t sure if I would live on campus or not. I was upset, because if I did live on campus, that would mean I wouldn’t be at home where I could go outside and swing on my swing in the giant oak tree in my yard. I decided that if I did live in a dorm room, I would get a glider, so I could rock and it would feel like a swing.
I spent my last two years on campus, and I forgot about my idea to get a glider to rock in. I forgot about a lot of things. I had pretty much turned my back on God and I was exploring other religions.
One late night during my senior year of college, my roommate and I decided to go get ice cream. On the way back, we took a side street close to the apartments we lived in and out in front of one of the houses was a perfectly good glider, sitting outside waiting to be picked up by the garbage truck in the morning. After a little investigation, I decided I wanted to give this old chair that was no longer loved a new home. We quickly discovered that this chair wouldn’t fit in her car, and certainly wouldn’t in mine, so we did the next best thing.
I sat in the backseat, holding onto the chair by the arms, with the whole seat and base hanging out of the door, while my friend drove all of 500 feet back to the dorm. As luck would have it, campus security was hanging out in our parking lot and just had to know what we were doing.
Having a reputation for doing well-intentioned crazy stuff comes in handy.
I squeezed this chair into my itty bitty apartment bedroom, and loved it. I sat in it and rocked when I was upset. I sat in it when I needed to think, or needed to be alone. I sat in it to read, or to talk to my Daddy.
One time my friend and I got in a fight that peaked when I was sitting in that rocking chair.
I didn’t sit in it for a long time after that. In fact, I ignored it until I moved out, when I took it home with me, put it in the living room in a dark corner, and left it there.
I moved my desk out of my room since I don’t have a computer and I don’t do any work at it. I rearranged some drawers, threw away some old junk, and where my desk was, the chair now sits.
My Father and I have been rocking together all night.
Sometimes, I don’t need to be wordy when I pray, or try to put all my fears into English for Him. He already knows what I’m thinking and feeling.
I just can’t sit still long enough to listen to what my Father has to say.
Now I don’t have to be.