To fill in these holes

This entry is going to require a bit of explanation at the outset. It’s a compilation of what has been going on in my life, stacattoed by one very short story inspired by DC, all tied together by a Rascal Flatts song (italic print). Just my thoughts. Take them for whatever they may be worth.
~~~

There’s three in the hall from those pictures in the closet,
Two in the bedroom, from that night I lost it;
And one deep inside me, determined to stay,
They don’t get any bigger – but they don’t go away;

I’m sitting at the bus station, waiting. Long waits have been normal this week. After reading from Valley of Vision and scrolling through the documents I have on my palm pilot, I remember that I have pictures on the little devise. Surely, that can entertain me for five minutes.

I click over and the slideshow begins. So many fun memories of college. If only I had graduated last year, I wouldn’t have to spend the day three weeks from now going back to campus just to face what had happened since I left. I would much rather spend the day with my family than all these planned activities that will make us review where we’ve been and where we’re going because I’m already trying to get going, and looking back is not going to help.

I don’t want to be teary eyed as I look at these pictures. But most of what I see are the forms of people who are now only shadows of their former selves. As a true, dear friend of mind put it recently, they’re dying at heaven’s door.

Isn’t that the ultimate tragedy? It’s Les Miserables and I’m surrounded by Javerts – so close to getting it right, so pious and so perfect that they’ve allowed their pursuits to become obsessions, and permitted obsession to become God. And I don’t feel like I share any common ground with them anymore, and that scared the living daylights out of me. Not because I’m afraid of losing my friends, but because I want them to know the loving God I serve. And if they can’t see it after all they’ve been though, I ask myself for the thousandth time, what will it take? And I fear the answer.

Holes in and around me
I keep fallin’ back into
All these holes
Dig in and surround me
God knows what I’m gonna do
To fill in these holes
Left by you

Wednesday night was gorgeous. Driving back from Bible study with the windows down, Caedmon’s Call bumping over the speakers, Sarah and I would have driven forever if we had permission to disappear from the face of the earth for a couple days. But life called and we had work in the morning, so we settled for a detour – a stroll in Old Town Alexandria.

It wasn’t my first time down there, but it was the first time under the regime of spring, and it was as if I was visiting a whole new place. The shops and restaurants were open much later than expected and were filled with people. Consequently, the streets were relatively deserted. And it was beautiful.

Probably the highlight of the evening was the discovery of a little park conveniently located between three oddly intersecting streets. There is a cool, metallic structure that forms a sort of shelter over the area, and it is covered in a stunning, expansive vine that bears sweet-smelling bunches of delicate purple flowers. Sarah knew what they are called; I forget. Intermingled in the vines are white Christmas lights, which shine a soft glow on the benches and tables scattered under this beautiful overhang.

Sarah and I, being girls, set immediately to discussing the many wonderful purposes this park could serve, a romantic picnic being the foremost thought in my mind, at least. Of course this sets her thinking about someone she misses, and me thinking about… emptiness. I’m supposed to enjoy the fact that this place even exists, even if I don’t have “someone” to share it with, right? Sarah and I are enjoying it, to be sure. That should be enough. But what can I say? Life takes its toll, and I think its fair to say that both the girls in that park on Wednesday night had holes.

Thank God for His promise of transformation in the life to come. We will not just be healed of our wounds; we’re going to get something infinitely better. Transformation. Just so we will be able to enjoy him in all His fullness. I can’t wait.

I poured drink after drink, but nothin’ hit bottom
I’ve been on my knees, admitted my problems…

She was surprisingly lucid, considering the number of drinks she’d had. If she hadn’t felt so horrible, she may have even commended herself for holding her liquor so well; her college roommate would’ve been proud of her.
“I don’t drink to forget my problems,” she used to say, “I drink to have fun.”
Yeah, Cassie. I’m so sure. I know the number of guys you got together with and broke up with. I’m no fool, not anymore at least.
She understood now, what drove Cassie to the bottle, as she wandered down the street alone. It was well-lit, so she felt safe, but she also knew she was not in any shape to drive herself home, so she resolved to walk around till she felt better. The only problem was the churning in her stomach that refused to go away and seemed to increase with every step. She finally found refuge on a park bench, where she sat and nearly melted into horizontally. Ugh.
A song she’d heard about a hundred years ago was running through her head, taunting her. You always had a way with words/ so you can just imagine when I heard you say she would be your wife/ yeah it cut me like a knife…
The knife had been dulled a little by the alcohol, but it was still stuck squarely in her heart. This is such bologna, she kept telling herself. It’s not supposed to feel like this – any of it. I have my job, right? That’s what I’m living for now.
There was a Starbucks across the street, and she was suddenly hit with the realization that a good dose of black coffee would sober her up. And she resolved to stand up. As soon as she did, however, she noticed that inside the dimly lit lounge showcased by the glass walls, the baristas were mopping the floors and putting away the brewing equipments.
Awh, man. If she had been sober, she would have had no problem asking them for an exception, but she was always more quiet and reserved after she’d been drinking. So while it would probably delay her sobriety for another hour, she contented herself with the bench and distant memories.
He was gone. One of the dearest friends she’d ever had was gone, and he couldn’t care less about her pain. He hadn’t pulled any punches, spared no expense to see her suffer. All that after she thought they were friends. Ridiculous… this is all crazy, she moaned to herself. I need another beer.
There I go again… I don’t need it. It’s not going to fix a thing. They’re still going to be together when I wake up, and I’m still gonna be alone. Perfect misery and that’s all there is to it.

There’s two through my hands
And one through my feet
From this cross that I bear till the day that I see
This guilt and this blame, this shame and this hell
Seeking the truth, I’ve dug them myself…

All that, and then I came to this morning, curled up in my chair with my devotionals and journal and Bible, and was struck by the promises.

“The Lord is my support.”

“Truly, in vain is salvation hoped for from the hills, and from the multitude of mountains; truly the Lord our God is the salvation of Israel.”

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in Whom I will trust; my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”

“Cry out and shout, O inhabitant of Zion, for great is the Holy One of Israel in Your midst.”

“The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” (side note: I don’t know how many of you were raised in Southern Baptist churches, but there’s an upbeat hymn regarding this I sung while growing up, and I never understood it till today.)

“For Who is God, except the Lord? And who is a Rock, except our God? It is God Who arms me with strength, and makes my way perfect.”

“By the grace of God, I am what I am.”

Look at the number of “is” and “am”s in all those verses… these are promises and truths and things that aren’t going anywhere. God “is” and God “will,” and nothing I can do or anyone else can do will ever, ever change that. Love that is patient and kind and persevering and a love that does not betray – that is incapable of betrayal.

It occurs to me that we really don’t have much of a basis of understanding God’s love based on human experience. It is very rare that we see the true, self-sacrificial love of Christ among anyone, even Christians. And that’s not the way it’s supposed to be. But even coming from me, someone who has been blessed with parents and friends who love me in a way I don’t understand and don’t deserve, it all still doesn’t amount to God’s amazing love. We have to experience God’s love for ourselves; besides that, we only have poor examples of what we conceive love to be. At best, we see shadows of His love, and a shadow of the things to come. Oh, that I may get over my past and present hurts enough to see what real love is, the real love that flows from the Cross, and from the Resurrection!

Holes dig in and surround me
God knows what I’m gonna do
To fill in these holes
Left by you.

God does know what I’m gonna do. And I am learning to trust Him to show me… in His time.