Wide-Open Spaces
“In tight circumstances, I cried out to the Lord. The Lord answered me with wide-open spaces.” - Psalm 118:5 (CEB)
As a vocational minister, I need to be attentively focused on others and also willing to share vulnerably about my life, often multiple times a day. And in a season of grief, I'm learning that I have to make sure I'm even more intentional about getting space: space to feel and cry without needing to minister to anyone, space to think about mundane things, space to move slowly.
Mike and I took some space this week. We discovered a small redwood forest in Southern California, and a beautiful lake with endless green grass. We sat and stared at the water and played a card game. And as the week of spaciousness progressed, I found myself opening more to my own emotion. Tears flowed more than normal, but in way that felt right. I still cry after every swim in the swimming pool. Something about giving my body space to open up helps me to release grief.
In the middle of the night last night, as pregnancy heartburn and a frequent bathroom trips interrupted my sleep, I found myself thanking God that we didn't get pregnant right away after losing Julia, though it was utterly devastating when we didn't. I'm so glad I had some space to grieve before life moved too quickly.
I'm taking a class on the Psalms right now and today's assignment was to write a "prayer of praise." Our professor encouraged us to incorporate lament into the psalm, for our praise does not need to become a naive escape from the reality of suffering. Here's my prayer of praise:
Wide-open Space
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord for redwood forest trees that touch the heavens.
Praise the Lord for lakes with unseen depths.
Praise the Lord for space for my tears to speak in silence.
Praise the Lord for exhales of creative breath.
Praise Him, all you who feel trapped in Christian culture.
Praise Him, all you who wonder where your sorrow fits.
Praise Him, friends who offer presence without pressure.
Praise Him, every emotion; all are welcome.
Praise Him, swimmer. Open chest and breath to him.
And yet, O Lord, space is scary.
And yet, tears are tiring.
And yet, I’m tired of being a Christian.
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord for a year where life stopped.
Praise the Lord a newborn didn't come too soon.
Praise the Lord for alone time at her zoo.
Praise the Lord for quiet moments at her grave.
Praise Him, all you who hope for new life.
Praise Him, all you who wonder when life will move again.
Praise Him, mourning mother.
Praise Him, you who had hoped.
Praise Him, spacious quiet.
And yet, O Lord, we wanted two. We should have two, now.
And yet, the dry wipes in the diaper bag tell me life stopped too suddenly.
And yet, I want life to be busied with tantrums and potty training -- this kind of space is not the luxury I wanted.
But still will I praise you.
God who makes space for the hurting.
God who moves at the right pace.
Praise the Lord!