I admit. I can be a goofhead. At times. I find myself gabbing to God, in the middle of the night, about the dumbest things. He knows it. I know it. I tell Him it ain’t my fault I can’t sleep and He doesn’t need sleep and I am currently wondering about the current ridiculous thing I am wondering about.
Just KNOWING that it is okay to yak with God about anything is so amazing. What is more amazing is that He gets a kick out of it. Gets a hoot out of me.
He enjoys me in ALL my forms. Loves me when I am mad at Him for having to take the damned high road EVERY time. Who the world likes taking the high road all the time, I hope and whine and complain. All whilst being on that high road He put me on.
He understood me when I kicked Him to the curb for letting my mom leave me. Yea, didn’t speak to Him for quite the while, after mom died. I didn’t yak to Him, in the middle of the night, with dumbness. All I had, after that, was numbness. My heart told me to take the high road and talk to Him. That He would understand. I told life and God to kick rocks. He cared enough to allow me the space to get over my mad. Eventually, I did and went back to being a goofhead, saying dumb stuff for no reason and laughing with Him, in the middle of the night.
When the world snatched the rug out from under me and told me I had 60 days to find a new car, a new place to live, in a city and state I had never lived in, He was there. He allowed me to be terrified. He listened to my fears, in the middle of the night, wondering how I would make it. IF, in fact, I would make it? He even sat with me, in the middle of the night, as I cried leaving friends that meant so much to me.
He kicks it with me, on Sundays and enjoys me enjoying my Redzone channel. He doesn’t make fun of me for yakking at Him, in the middle of the night about SEVEN HOURS OF COMMERCIAL FREE FOOTBALL! Spending a delicious hour or so contemplating 7 hours of hollering at the tv and asking mom was she watching too!?
I have a fave shirt. Or, I had one, years ago. It was aqua ish in color. Soft. A tad bit faded. But sooooooo soft. It always felt like a hug, when I wore it. I wore it to work one day. Needed that hug feeling. My dad had passed some months before. I couldn’t afford to go to his funeral as I had to keep looking for work.
You see, I lost my job and my dad within the same month. Things were tight and I had to stay home and keep looking for work and being available for the weekly meetings to keep my meager unemployment going. Took months but I found a job. Felt like the absolute worst daughter, in all the land, for having chosen real life and finding a job, over going to his service. What money I had had to be saved to scrape the rent.
So, here I was, at work, in my slightly off color aqua ish sooooooft shirt. Feeling that hug. Feeling slightly less of the awful daughter I was. Was feeling myself, feeling loved, hugging my soft shirt and minding my own business when….
Yea, you already know what happened. A complete stranger, came up to me. With this disdainful look and told me my shirt didn’t match my pants and asked me why I would wear such a shirt that didn’t even match my pants, correctly. Like I should have been ashamed to have gone out in public with a slightly non matching shirt!…*gasp*.
I told her I wore it because it made me feel good. And, I kept on hugging myself, dancing a bit, feeling a bit less of the awful daughter I had had to be for a time.
I think of that shirt and how God ALWAYS let’s me know that He loves me, in that slightly faded aqua ish shirt. He loved me even as I made the awful life has to go on choice of finding a new job and paying bills.
He encourages me to wear that shirt. Encourages me to yak, incessantly, about completely random and goofy and serious and…whatever. He loves ALL those things. He let’s me know that I am HIS goofhead. He made me this way. He can be just as goofy as me, dontchaknow!
What’s the moral of this story, you ask? Beats me. That’s up for you to yak with God about, in the middle of the night….;)
styling my aqua ish shirt still,
P.S. The moral of the story is to keep on doing you. In ALL your forms. Keep on establishing a relationship with God as YOU know Him or can get to know Him. There will ALWAYS be someone who will look at you, with disdain, wondering about the choices you have made or failed to make in THEIR eyes. That’s THEIR problem, beloved. GOD made you how He made you. And, yall don’t have to keep explaining yourself. You keep on loving you. Keep on being loud, quiet, black, white, gay, straight, up, down.
Keep on wearing your aqua ish shirt knowing you have given life all that you could. Yes, you had to make some tough choices. But, you are STILL here. Keep on loving you. Keep on yakking, in the middle of the night…