I’ve got a snoring old man sleeping in my bed right now.
It’s my ex-husband’s dog, Vincent. My ex brought him over to visit. He used to be the family dog, but we couldn’t keep him. One of the best friends I’ll ever have. I was craving his presence…
I have been relegated to radio silence. In my prayers aloud, my voice has softened. In the conversations with God in my head, I have no volume, no reverberation and no particular tone. It is mostly code…groaning which cannot be uttered. In a voicemail I left for myself, I did not recognize my own voice. I usually cringe at the sound of my voice, but this actually sounded…nice. I played the message 3 or 4 times. How odd is that?
There has been a paring off of my primary associations. For one who is friendly to all but familiar to extremely few, that is already a very lonesome disposition. I don’t know how lonely it is at the top, but if it’s anything like where I am right now, I may be well suited for it.
That’s why I needed the unassuming, unadulterated affection of my good friend, Vincent. I do not care that he licks my face after having licked…well…anything else. All I know is he will lick my salty tears and lay all of his 65 pounds across my lap as long as I rub his head and scratch his butt…which, incidentally helps me think and makes me rest.
Vincent was my personal escort to that quiet place I used to know. That’s the place where I don’t have to know how it’s all going to work out. I just have to know I belong to God and God loves me forever. It’s enough to help me move forward with my destiny in mind, not in search of a plan, but in search of the next well lit step. One step at a time, one moment at a time. That’s all any of us gets. That’s all any of us needs. And that is the moment I will live in; that moment of silence where I wait on the next step God will reveal. I will let that be enough.