Tip of My Iceberg

He wasn’t physically or mentally lost. He was still operating with all his faculties.

But he felt lost to me. We hadn’t connected well with him in quite some time.

My husband’s job has been really busy of late. A smattering of travel, a plethora of meetings, responsibilities that grab his attention and his solid work ethic quicker than I can.

I’m not grousing, mind you. I manage to keep myself busy as well. We’ve both been at fault for not making each other a priority.

This isn’t about anyone’s fault. It’s recognizing how much we need to seek each other out and make space and time for one another.

We did. Finally.

We got away this past weekend for two nights. Not surrounded by work responsibilities that required lists of boxes to be checked off. Not being in a house that loves to remind me that it has needs–toilets to be scrubbed, laundry to be done, the ever-present dust that’s as much Florida as the alligators.

It’s only when I get away that I realize how loud that house is.

John graciously got us two nights in a hotel where it would be just us. Time to talk, to unpack much of what’s been happening over the past two months, an opportunity to really listen to one another without interruption.

Well, I interrupted him a lot. I’ve got lots of words.

Our two mornings were spent on our little temporary porch. A haven of quiet. Coffee in hand, it was easy to decompress and talk. Not all of it serious and meaningful. We had a lot of laughs, teasing each other, dreaming together, making plans for adventures that may or may not happen.

The fun was in the possibilities.

As we drove home, I asked the question gnawing at my mind. “Why have we waited so long to do something like this?”

There was no good answer. There is no solid excuse for the times we miss opportunities to be with those we love and care about. Friends who’ve drifted from us because we haven’t been more intent on keeping connections current. Family members that live at a distance and aren’t always right in the middle of our radar, who become forgotten because all the urgent things in life scream louder than heart connections do.

I’m at fault in many of these situations. My two sisters and brother live far from me, and I’m not consistent with keeping in touch. I’ve got great friends in other states–in my state–that I don’t keep up with because busyness is easier to do than heartfelt inclusion.

Many people feel far from God; they believe He’s silent. That He doesn’t care about the things they care about. That He’s busier with others who seem worthier than they feel.

But here’s a guarantee–He’s present, always. Longing for connection with us more than we want it with Him.

He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t badger. God speaks to us in our quiet places, when we have space to listen.

He waits.

It doesn’t matter how long it may have been since you’ve sought Him. He’s always ready to begin the conversation.

Pure grace. No blame given.