A Long Way Home

 

I'd been in and out of a fugue state for some time.  Questions abounded as uncertainties finger, much less center my mind on a reason.  I felt out-of-sorts, what Mother would describe as not "feeling so brown-skinned."  I never outright asked her what the description meant because she seemed so certain about her status.  After the declaration, typically the rest of her day involved singing a medley of hymns designed to improve her emotional trajectory.

I hadn't felt "brown-skinned"  for too long.

Spirit had sent friends who wondered how I was doing.  "I haven't heard from you in a while. Is everything alright? " appeared with a metronomic voice or text messaging frequency.   Others sent  Scriptures or encouraging emojis to ""Look and live," my brother live, Look to Jesus now and live; Tis recorded in His word, Hallelujah! It is only that you "look and love."

Still, I walked around in a funk. neither up nor down; sad or euphoric, engaged or disjointed.

Kai and I started our morning walk, with him eagerly heading to his favorite spots.  I constantly marvel at the energy he puts into our Constitutionals.  As usual, I began reciting The Disciples Prayer (Matthew 6: 9-13) and  "The Lord is my shepherd... (Psalm 23).  However, before I realized it, I'd segued into a chorus of questions that had no clear-cut answers.  They never did!  In truth, I had devolved into my predictable litany of complaints!

Why? Why Lord? opened a recitation of my sterling deeds and impeccable intentions.  "Why are You allowing me to be buffeted by everything and everybody, Lord, when I spend my life trying to do what's right? I'm Your obedient daughter! I'm a good person! I obey You!  I love You!" I was on a roll,  relishing the unfurling of my good deeds as if I were the town crier.  

"Do you realize that Jesus, your Elder Brother, sits at the right hand of the Father making intercession for you day in and day out," whispered in my ears?   I saw Jesus sitting at God's right hand in a flash! The first time, ever! Then in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, I saw the beaten, brutalized, and mutilated Jesus crowned with thorns, hanging on the Cross.  I heard three words, "It is finished."  

It stopped me in half step! If Kai hadn't stopped at the same moment, I would've tripped and fallen.  

"Thank You, Jesus! Thank You, Lord," burst forth rapidly from my mouth.  I would not stop;  could not quit!  I flashed back to congregants in my parents' church who often sang, 

"I thank You, Jesus, I thank You, Jesus
I thank You, Jesus; I thank You, Lord
You brought me, yes You brought me
From a mighty, a mighty long way.

Even as we resumed our trek, praises gushed from my mouth and reverberated.  They wouldn't,  couldn't stop!
 
I thank You, Jesus; I thank You, Jesus
I thank  You, Jesus; I thank You,  Lord
oh, You brought me, yes you brought me
From a mighty long way!"

I literally skipped the rest of the way home.

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