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No Other Direction

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No Other Direction

I broke my lawn mower yesterday! That might be an overstatement. I misjudged how close I could mow to a fence post and smashed the wheel up against it. When I did that I messed up the steering wheel and had to mow the last half of our yard only being able to turn the steering wheel right. When I turned left the steering wheel wouldn’t turn the wheels. It was frustrating figuring out how to only turn right and accomplish the job. It took longer but I finally mowed the whole yard.

I’ve reflected on the frustration of only being able to turn in one direction. There have been times in my life when I wanted to go one way and haven’t been able to. I struggled, fought, complained, and smashed myself against the way I wanted to go only to go nowhere. I still have that feeling about a particular section of my life. It’s an area I derived a lot of pleasure and purpose but it seems closed off to me and has been for a while. It’s been several years and several failed attempts to turn my life in that direction. As time goes by my doubts of ever being able to turn in that direction grows while hope fades.

Perhaps this is the way it is supposed to be. Maybe still longing for it shows I have growing to do. I can fix the lawnmower but there are seasons in life that are never to be repeated.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)

For more posts, reflections and other writings, please visit: http://www.thewannabesaint.com

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Words

Words

Today I had the privilege and duty to be a part of the memorial service for my father. It’s been surreal the last few days. So many errands to run, items to check off on a list, places to go, people to see. There’s been a sense of urgency, a nervous energy, a controlled chaos, riding a wave of sorrow and speed.  Because of the hectic pace of the last several days, I stood on the stage behind the pulpit at the service this afternoon with no notes, and no structure to the stories and experiences I wanted to share.

Words, they’ve flooded my mind and soul since Dad passed. Words from family and friends who care and are sorry for our loss. Words that go into an obituary, on a card for flowers, in a service program and used in phone calls, emails, and texts. So many words used to describe the love a family has for one who is, was, the central fixed, point.

Now, standing behind the pulpit at the memorial service today, I had no notes, no words written, no solid ideas, memories swarming in my head but none coming in for a landing. How do you choose the right words to convey the meaning of a life which impacted many people?  In the pantheon of phrases, how do you pick out those which will express the purpose of a life lived well?

A deep breath, a small prayer, and … share my heart, open my lips, loosen my tongue and let the words come. No, they will not be adequate. No, they will not be perfect. Yes, there will be second-guessing and memories that are forgotten to be shared.

Words. They are not, and cannot contain the heart’s cry of longing and loneliness or succinctly express the fondness, the love, the good of being apart from a person you love. This is okay. Living, being, existing, is more than words, deeper than condolences, greater than expressions of sympathy and sadness.

Living should be beyond our ability to communicate it easily if it is done well.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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