Okay, so anyone who has happened to notice the Twitter feed to the right of here will be well aware of my displeasure over the past couple of days with regard to living in Florida and possibly having to endure yet another hurricane or tropical storm. Scrolling over my writing, I realize that I sound bitter, which was not my intention, though I certainly felt rankled this morning after watching the news. I've lived here in Florida for many years now, and moved here when I was young enough to have had dramatically different hobbies, hopes and dreams than the ones I entertain now in my more (ahem) mature years, Not that I'm THAT mature, just more so than when I first arrived in what the locals like to call "South New York". Upon arrival here, my likes tended toward running around on the beach, clubbing, hanging out at tattoo parlors, and other such pursuits. Nowadays, I'm a happily married mommy, sun allergies keep me away from the beach for most of the year, I very much dislike loud music and crowded places, I don't have the money for tattoos (and am not inclined to have any more of my skin decorated anyway), and my wildest dreams have me scrambling up mountainsides and hiking through old forests (the first of which I will not find here in South Florida, though we do have some beautiful parks tucked into various locations, and I've at least had the chance to wander around below the cover of breathtakingly gorgeous live oaks, moss dripping from wildy twisting arms).
These days, my heart and soul long for my northern home. I have a young child who barely knows her family (neither I nor my husband have family here), and as I grow older I'm much more aware of the fact that everyone else is growing older as well. Time seems so much more precious now than it did many years ago, when the clock moved more slowly and my days weren't punctuated by moments I wish I could share with those of my own blood. I've been making due with yearly visits home (and I'm grateful beyond words that I've been gifted with these trips), but even two weeks of visiting never seems to be enough. Inevitably, I leave without having seen someone with whom I wanted to spend time, as well as incurably and deeply sad that the trip is over and that, once again, I have to leave the place where I now feel most at home to travel southward again. Blessedly, at the end of my daughter's and my journey is my husband and our crew of happy animals, so at least there is something wonderful to look forward to, and it does provide a bit of a balm to my mournful spirit.
Now, just before the wee one and I are about to embark on our northward journey, a storm is swirling out over the Atlantic. Actually, it's been swirling over Puerto Rico; I'm not sure where it's exact location is as I write. Weather forecasters are predicting that the lovely Irene will strengthen to a category 3 hurricane (not good) but are unsure which trajectory it will take. The best case scenario has it traveling over the ocean but still dumping lots of rain on us and tearing up our yards with gale force winds (just when our bougainvillea are beginning to bloom and grow lush). The worst case-well, we won't get into that. Suffice to say the worst case scenario will not be like an autumn walk through Disney World. Now, all there is to do is wait and prepare. I'm trying to refrain from further ranting and pleading with God; this morning's raving was enough to last me for quite some time, and I don't believe my poor husband will take any more without firing back a few expletives of his own. Even the dog ran into hiding in the early hours of our day for want of peace from my tirade.
As the day moved forward, I tried to focus on the idea that God has a plan, and that we'll leave for MA when we're supposed to get on that airplane. I made sure that positive music flowed through the speakers of the computer while I worked, and echoed off the tiles in the bathroom while I showered. I read my morning devotionals searching for answers and paged through the inspirational daily writings which arrive in my email inbox each day. These tools did help; if I'm not happy about the possibility of a hurricane screwing up our travel plans (and trashing our yard, and possibly damaging our house) I'm at least not walking around the house with tears in my eyes. My perspective has vastly improved, even if I'm not happy about this recent turn of events. I'm aware that, in the general scheme of things, I'm very very blessed to be in the situation of life in which I find myself (storm aside). I still am possessed of a longing for home, but I'm also enjoying what is going on in front of me right now. And if nothing enjoyable is going on, then I'm at least trying to be fully present, and to have some faith.
Recently, I read that the opposite of faith is mistrust. If I'm trusting in God, then I shouldn't be filled with fear and a lack of faith. In the past, I've had serious trust issues with the God of my youth and only recently have been dipping my toe back into the variably flowing waters of that religion. It feels good, though. I'm finding a measure of comfort in the readings and fellowship, in the sermons and in the connection I feel to Him. It's been nice, so far. Very very nice. I wonder if maybe this is just another test of faith, and if I'll pass or fail it. I have felt, over the past month or so, a sense of not being alone, of being bolstered by a strength I didn't have before. Sometimes I will make a decision and feel as though I didn't come to that conclusion on my own, because left to my own devices I would have dug in my heels and been miserable out of pure stubbornness. I feel like there's something to this faith stuff.
But I still want Irene to stay away.
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