I’m tempted to take John Blase to task for suggesting he’s lost his timing so late in his career, but he’s such a gentle soul. You should be following him, friends. Either his blog or on FB. In fact, if you’re maxed out on the number of people you follow, drop me and follow him. You won’t regret it. (links at bottom of post)
Anyway, here I am, midweek, no ESL class today, finally able to begin processing last weekend, a weekend beyond my imagination when I imagined all was lost, a weekend about which my husband said,
“When I get to heaven, I’d like to see the video of all this, just to see all the pieces at once,”
and John’s words have gotten me off course.
Before daybreak, I retrieved from my bag the hastily made list I compiled Sunday morning while waiting for my plane home. Sitting at the gate, memories of the weekend came flooding in. They came rushing at me. No time to process. Only time to jot a list of keywords: Hug, “providential,” Lebanon bologna, the 3 Qs, feet firmly planted….
These words mean nothing to you, I know, but my hope was that when I finally had time to sit and think, these would serve as memory triggers. It’s taken me 72 hours to come back to it, to try to capture some of it for some purpose I don’t yet understand. There’s a story in all of this somewhere and I’m still trying to figure it out. I’ve begun sending bits at a time to my oldest and dearest friend, the one who has followed my life thus far. And I hers.
I wrote from 5 to 7 AM, then again from 7:30 to 9 AM. I stopped to take the dog for a stroll and make a cup of coffee. Right then and there, as coffee brewed, I read John Blase’s words and the line, “It’s a strange feeling losing a bit of your timing this late in your career.” (Hat tip to Stephen Sondheim).
The line screamed for my attention. Doesn’t it know my attention is all spoken for today? I tried to turn away, to return to the task at hand. I’d been making such progress. But you know how these things go.
I just want to tell John I understand. But also, when it comes right down to it, that we are all pretty clueless about our timing, whether it’s right, wrong or upside-down. Very poor judges of it. Sorry, John. A person can be so on the right track he can’t see the rails under him. And then, holy smokes, there we are, at our destination. At exactly the right place. At exactly the right time. For exactly the people we were destined all along to meet. And for purposes we were also destined to meet. I can’t explain how it happens, but it does, no matter how many times I’ve given up on it.
Sometimes, the hardest part of walking by faith is letting go of timing.
Okay, phew! Let’s all return to our regularly scheduled programming. Where was I? Oh yes, looking for what I had to say, before John came along and got me off my track….or helped me find it. Time will tell.