Mattresses and Memories

Let me tell you a story of a young girl who was lost and broken. She moved into a new house and said goodbye to a dear friend and an old life. And every night in her new house, she mourned and wept and pressed deeply into her bed as if to press into another world far from the pain. And one night, amidst streaming tears and a snotty nose, she heard God whisper, I'm here. And she pressed so deeply into her bed that night that she found herself pressed into the very heart of God, the very arms of Christ, never the same.

I sold that bed today.

It's funny how different things affect us during the moving process. I never thought once that I would mourn for a bed. Yet here I am, wiping back tears and trying to feel it as if it were alive and could tell me things, tell me how many tears and laughs and secrets were shared with roommates and best friends on its soft, cushy surface.

I remember my mother telling me once that a bed is a sacred place. I've always considered that statement in regards to marriage. But truly, it goes beyond that. A bed is where you are most vulnerable, unconscious in your dreams. A bed is where you go when all the world is grey and wrong. A bed is where you first see the sunlight of every day. A bed is where you feel the sweet reward of rest after a long day's work. A bed is where you find quiet and a settling of the soul. A bed is a very special place.

I know it may sound funny, and perhaps you may think I'm being dramatic. But losing this bed feels almost like losing a friend, with very sweet memories woven deep into its every curve and edge. I experienced God in the most radical and intimate way over the past three years. Starting that night I felt Him hold me, in this bed.

I can only hope another little girl somewhere, perhaps also lost and broken, will find Him there, too.

Update:

Another way that being in God's family is so amazing-- when this family came to pick up the bed, they asked to pray for me. So right then my mom and the three of us joined hands and prayed in my cluttered half-packed apartment. It's like I can't go anywhere without getting prayer for my trip!

Season of Lasts

When you know the end is near, you act differently. You can't help it. Suddenly all your senses are heightened. The sun feels warmer, the time flies faster, and the tears come easier.

There are three milestone changes in life: marriage, babies, and moving. The first two are treated with so much joy and praise. New beginnings, new people, new loves. Challenges, yes. But they symbolize future, growth in the life you already have. But moving... in my last few months in preparing to move to Paris, I have realized that moving is different.

When you move, it's exciting and new novel, but it's also like a death. The season of "lasts." Last family get-together. Last girls night. Last day at the job. Last worship night. Friends you haven't spoken to in years will move mountains to get that last coffee with you. Suddenly it's your pick for every restaurant, because, you know... And everyone treats you carefully, fragilely, like a priceless porcelain statue that if they nudge too harshly may shatter prematurely.

Then there's the squeeze. It will happen suddenly and without ceremony. You are in the middle of a board game, an ice cream run, shoe shopping, and you realize. You won't be doing this again, not with these people. You are putting this life to death. And your heart will contract until you feel you can't breathe. And you don't want to say anything and be a Debbie Downer. So you just endure the squeeze in silence, watching the world you love play out in its final act.

I once read a quote by an unknown author that said

"Don't work to make you presence known. Make your absence felt."

I think the ones who love the deepest, feel their friends absence before they even leave themselves.
Appreciate the ones you love, friends. Ask God to teach you how to love them deeply. And He will.

"Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for each other, love one another deeply, from the heart. " 1 Peter 1:22