There is no way to win this game I never wanted to play, but here I am. I think I know just a smidgen (or maybe more) how the folks trapped in the Jumanji Game felt. They wanted to fold it up and put it away, but the game wouldn't quit. There is no ejection seat, no escape hatch, and no rewind button in the Game of Life. No magic words will erase the past no matter how we wish it to be so.
There was no family gathering today. Perhaps my children will never again be gathered into one place for a day of celebration... I can pray to that end, but I can't make it happen, even if it is my greatest desire. Today I went home to Williamson. I traded cars with the Cabinet Maker, sorted through some stuff, and helped him move a dresser from upstairs to the living room. The house is looking more put together than it has for the past several months. This is good. We shared some lunch, he showed me his garden. Naughty Too came to say hello several times, we let the remaining two chickens out to wander the yard for a bit, and we talked. Talking is hard.
I wish I could say our conversations are productive. Maybe they are... but I feel completely helpless tonight. I want to sleep, but when I lay down to close my eyes, sleep does not come. Instead of sleep there are tears of anger, grief, and overwhelming sadness. I have buried my anger for a very long time. It's been pushed down, capped tightly, and left to ferment. I know better days are ahead, but in this moment it feels like life will never be free from this grief. His actions may have landed us here, but it feels I am the one left to figure out how manage the broken pieces. It's too much for any of us to handle alone. I know Who can help me through this mess, but I don't always know exactly how to find Him...
Tomorrow morning I will get up, take my shower and meet my sister Priscilla for breakfast. I will go to work later than usual and work until the daycare closes. I will be grateful for my job in the kitchen and the little ones who look for me each day. And little by little, with God's help and His hand to hold, I will climb this mountain. He hasn't left me. Even when I feel alone He is here. He hasn't left either one of us. For this I am thankful.
Barns of Conewango, New York.
12 minutes ago