Before I even begin, I’m pretty proud of myself: this is blog entry #3 in 3 weeks. That alone deserves some sort of award, mostly because I haven’t been this consistent in writing in probably 2-3 years.
I’m writing this entry 39,000 miles in the air. That’s right, you guessed it. I’m flying. My mind calls this trip “flying home” but my heart would argue that point and probably win. It’s always a rough trek back to the west coast, mostly because of who I leave behind. I don’t necessarily miss Massachusetts, although, there are so many things that make that place unique that I completely took for granted growing up.
I miss the people.
It’s the same story when I leave Redding, and Matt doesn’t come with me. Our airport scenes don’t usually change with time: I stay strong right up until the very last minute, and then I lose it. I’ve grown really comfortable with crying in front of whoever is dropping me off; whether it be my family or Matt. Sometimes, a girl just needs to cry. I wish I didn’t, merely because I usually end up with a splitting headache mid-flight because I tend to work myself up. No, I’m not the hysteric girl in the corner who can’t catch her breath. It’s more like, I bite my lip, avoid eye contact, and usually receive those “aw, poor girl” looks from the airline attendees. Who, because I fly United so often now, know me by face and I bet anything they’re rolling their eyes on in the inside. I usually am, but you’d probably never guess.
The Lord is funny in the midst of all this. Of course, I come onto this flight this afternoon, and the DirectTV is on some Bible channel and as I look up, I see the verse, “…I have to go, but when I leave, I will leave you a Comforter.” (That’s the Carla remix, but you know what I’m talking about.)
Comforter. Why do I need a comforter?
The answer is pretty obvious, especially in those times when my heart is just sad. Human behavior is funny and can be extreme, because in the moment of my greatest pain, the one thing that pacifies that pain, obviously seems like the best solution. Is it rational? Probably not. But I can tell you, I didn’t want to get on that flight to San Francisco. My mind can work really fast when I want to accomplish something, and so I already had a ticket in mind to purchase that would just extend my stay a little longer.
I even texted my mom, in some hopes that she would affirm my ticket purchase and reply with, “Dad will be right there to come get you!” Cause, that’s the kind of dad I have. But even my mom sounded hesitant. She definitely didn’t respond with, “Get the ticket!” probably because she’s wise and knows that the right thing to do, in this moment, probably wasn’t going to be comfortable.
I got myself and my belongings and walked towards the door. All while my wonderful fiancé is texting me saying, “But you’ll get to see me soon…” along with a photo of his handsome self. Matt obviously isn’t my child, but your love and sacrifice gets a good work out when you’re about to (or are) marry someone. Everything inside of me wanted to stay, and then I got his text. Whether or not he was joking or just playing around, I was reminded and walking onto the plane got ever so sightly easier. We still had tears, don’t worry.
And I sat in my seat, and saw those words flash across my screen:
“…I will give you a Comforter.”
It’s easier (this seems to be the way) to stay frustrated rather than look to God. It takes a certain giving up of one’s self when we turn to Him, because we’re pretty much admitting, “I can’t do this.” To a self-sufficient generation (and myself, sometimes) that’s one of the most difficult things to do.
A child knows no different: if they’re hurt or upset, they don’t hide and try to figure out how to sooth themselves. They typically RUN to their mom or dad. I’ve seen it way too many times to not believe it. I nanny a little girl after school, and if something is really bothering her, typically no matter what treat I make her, or free time option I give her, the one thing she asks for is her mom. Somewhere in life, she learned that when she was in need, her mom would fill that need. Somewhere in life, we learned that “other” things try to fulfill our needs (and that doesn’t even mean GETTING them met; sometimes, it’s the opposite: ignoring our pain and hurt [ie. distraction]). When Jesus said it so perfectly and simply:
“…I will give you a Comforter.”
Nothing we have to work for. There’s nothing we could physically do to earn this love and compassion. We don’t have to strive for it.
It is given to us.
I write this FULLY aware that I probably follow it about .2% of the time. Part of this blog is just me penning my “journey.” There’s a power in confessing what’s on our hearts and our minds – it’s two fold. We can get the help of others and we can help others by reminding them that they’re not the only ones who have, potentially, felt the same we have.
And hey, there you have it.