Even though it's Tuesday night, I still want to talk about Sunday morning.
I had told Bruce when we woke up in the little corporate apartment he'd been assigned that I was pretty sure I'd lost my identity during the night. We'd had dinner in a funky downtown establishment, listened to some big label song writers sharing their craft in a side street coffee shop, and acted like we were tourists on vacation. But we were in Franklin to stay, not just here for a sweetheart retreat. And that sort of hit me Sunday morning.
I was still sure I was a Daughter of the King, the wife of Bruce, and mom to 3 amazing kids and a sweet daughter-in-love, but after that I was pretty fuzzy. Back in Muscatine I didn't have to think about who I was. I didn't have to wonder how I was defined, or how I would travel from Point A to Point B. I knew how I was connected to my neighbors, friends and community.
Here, I am unknown. And that's a bit disconcerting.
So Bruce and I headed off to church even though I just wanted to crawl under a rock and be introspective. And I was stunned to hear the video interview of a volunteer whose "First Touch Ministry" is to reach out with compassion to new folks, "to know them and help their identities be known". (Ack! That women had been in my bedroom this morning! She heard me say I'd lost my identity! How else could she know??) What a joy it was to hear someone validate my uncertainty, my angst. She knew how I felt and wanted to help me - and she was Jesus with skin on to me. I'm beginning to have new thoughts, tender thoughts, about refugees, immigrants and people who have faced trauma and change. And it's all good. I know I won't be the same for having had this experience of aloneness in the middle of many.
And my take away for the morning was an application to 1 John 4:19 "we love because He first loved us" - a challenge to wake up each morning and thank God for another day to be loved by Him. So easy for me to miss that. It is He who loves us and teaches us to love. I expect to be transformed.
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