I always thought if DANNY got in recovery and if DANNY did what he needed to do and DANNY DANNY DANNY...
Things would get better.
And by "things" I mean life.
But you know what? Apparently, Danny's actions have little effect on my inner peace and sense of balance.
It turns out only I have that kind of control on me.
And God only knows what I need. Literally. GOD ONLY KNOWS.
I haven't been asking Him though. The THINGS, guys. The THINGS I have to tell him. I'm ashamed, and I don't even like THINKING the thoughts I have let alone admitting them to God. I tell my food. I tell my movie marathons. I tell my yarn and crochet hooks.
(What am I? EIGHTY?!)
And only then, at the end of a uncomfortable day filled with the fictional lives of characters played years and years ago, do I close my eyes and quickly let loose on God and then quickly cut it off before He can answer.
I'm the pro at leaving messages on God's answering machine... like the 13 year old boy with a crush on the head cheerleader, "iloveyouiloveyouiloveyougoodbye."
But today there was a knock on my door and a envelope handed to me full of cash. Cold, hard, cash. I opened it and cried. I just cried. I cried for so many reasons. Some I understand. Some I don't. But at that moment, I couldn't talk to my food or my couch or my yarn or Gary Cooper in any form. Before I knew what I was doing, I was letting my gut take over the instructing of my body.
And that's how my bathtub came to be filled with hot water at the end of a hot, sunny Arizona day.
It's where I go to pray and cry and commune and only pause mid-tears to wonder if it ever weirds God out that I chiefly commune with him in highly vulnerable situations.
The tub is my chapel, I shall not want.
The warm water signals the end of my message leaving, and this time I listen.
"God, what? What now? What shall I do NOW?"
His presence is undeniable. It holds me, surrounds me, fills the parts of me that I didn't happen to fill with Peeps and Cadbury.
And then he says.
Feed the neighbor's animals
Text _________ to see if she wants the frozen pizza in your freezer.
I always forget to end my prayers. I usually end up just meditating until my thoughts come to the present and I remember that oh YEAH I have to feed the neighbor's animals before the sun sets!
Are things better now that Danny is in recovery? In some ways.
But did it fix my life? Did it make life easier?
No. No, it did not. In fact, it presented an entirely new SET of "how do I deal with THIS?!" 's.
But now I know the across the board answer.
It's the one I've always known but never trusted.
It's simply: don't deal with it, Alicia. Do no deal. Just go to God, go to God, and listen and wait, and REST in Him.
Happy Easter, my true sisters and brothers. I hope your Peeps live longer than ours did.