Some weeks carry too many emotions to stuff inside your skin. Does God understand? Two days ago as of this writing, my sweet mother suffered a stroke and a heart attack. Two provinces east, I've kept my phone close since, waiting for my sister's calls and texts, bracing for the news I know will one day come. Today Beverly camped at our mother's hospital bedside. Mom, she reports, remains the Comeback Queen. After two days of semi-consciousness, she roused enough to assert some of her lifelong spunk and humour. At lunch today she made a face when fed pureed chicken noodle soup. "Salt!" she said. "No salt here," replied Bev. You're on a heart-healthy diet, confirmed the nurse, slipping out of the room. "She went to get salt?" Mother asked. "No," said Bev. "Would you like me to sneak some in?" "Yes," Mom shot back. "What harm could it do?" She's 95. She had every right to ask. Laughter shook my shoulders reading that text, then other emotions elbowed in. I heard about two deaths today: a friend, younger than me, from breast cancer; and a beautiful young person, once a companion of our son's, in a diving accident. As I sit at my desk, pondering my connections to both, anger and sadness churned inside. Guilt too, for kindnesses undone. This week has also included news of an unexpected positive turn in a situation I, and many others, have prayed (worried, advocated, pleaded) over - to no affect. An immoveable mountain, or so it seemed. In spite of a flurry of phone calls and emails, nothing had budged. "What good is prayer?" someone asked. "It's not working." I was too weary to reply that sometimes, for his own reasons, God says "No." No hope. A dismal cavern to huddle in, but it felt like our next destination. Then, without warning, the mountain moved. I called to report the news. "I'm in shock," stammered the father. Me too, I said. I hung up, hugged someone, high-fived someone, did a happy dance, and shouted a thank you prayer to our Heavenly Father. In that moment, I felt like I did as a child at the beach, finding a warm spot in the cold Pacific and vowing not to move. Ever. In this same week, I acquired a crazy-coloured, second-hand Lazy-Boy recliner with a a broken spring. I fixed the spring with zip-ties (thanks, Judy!) and the thing is so comfortable it makes me almost dizzy with delight every time I sit in it. God made us in his image, the Bible says. He knows our mountains and valleys. He is intimate with our sorrows and joys, the emotions that tumble helter-skelter, tossing us from tears to laughter in the same hour. He feels them too, and sent Jesus in the flesh to prove it. Does God understand your emotional roller-coaster? Oh, yes. The most beautiful part of that, is that he rides along.
