It’s late on Saturday night and I’m tucked away in bed, with everyone else — Avi, Snuggles and Cuddles — asleep.  Well, almost everyone else is asleep — there’s something in the attic above my bedroom that is definitely awake and scampering around up there.  Please let it be a squirrel, please let it be a squirrel.  I mean, I don’t necessarily want a squirrel running around in my attic but I keep thinking of all the other things it could be AND FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYTHING GOOD, PLEASE LET IT BE A SQUIRREL.

Someone once told me that squirrels are nothing more than rats with furry tails.  I keep thinking about that.

It’s going to be hard to fall asleep tonight.

– — –

Having Avi with me so much lately has been really good for me and I think — well, I hope — that it’s been good for her, too.  Lately she’s been wanting to play the “mama” game all the time, where she pretends to be a mama to her baby doll, Cuddles or, if neither of those two are available, her imaginary child.  And I suppose that I’m getting a chance to play the game, too, as I’ve been keeping her so much lately.  I cut up her food, I pick out her outfits, I comb her hair after a bath.  Little things, perhaps, but they’re not so little to me.

As we were sitting at a red light the other night, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw her looking out the window at the dark sky.  I turned around to get a good look at her and, as I looked at that precious thing sitting in her pink car seat, I was just overcome with emotion and, without any good reason, said “Avi?  Did you know that I’m gonna love you forever and that nothing you do or don’t do could ever, ever change that?”

She turned to look at me and, with tears filling up her little eyes, said “But what if I’m not wiff you next year and you don’t know where to find me to love me?”

I looked her straight in the eyes and, without one moment of hesitation, told her how it’s gonna be.

“Not loving you is not an option.  If you go away, I will find you.”

– — –

I’m one of those girls who thinks about the date on the calendar, comparing where I was last year at this time to where I am now.  I didn’t write much last week because I didn’t trust myself; it was the one year anniversary of when a friend of mine, who had come to live with me for six months of her pregnancy and subsequent birth of her child, left.  I’ve only mentioned it on the blog once or twice over the past year, but don’t let that fool you — it’s been a full year of working through almost every emotion you can imagine.

It was also this exact time last year that I was in a very serious dating relationship.  Last Thanksgiving was the first time I brought someone home with me, so I’ve naturally had it on my mind quite a bit.  It wasn’t a good relationship for me to be in, but somehow, pulling into the family driveways alone this year was still an embarrassing and bitter pill to swallow.

There’s been other little things to add to the mix, too — Starlite ending, my mother remarrying, etc.  I’m not trying to complain; not all of these things have been necessarily bad, but they have been major life changes.  If you were to look at my life a year ago tonight, you’d be able to make quite a list of changes over the last 365 days.

And I think it’s safe to say that, for the first time in my rather short life, I’m a bit jaded.

– — –

I’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it through most of the year, but sometime around a month ago, it started to leak out — a short comment here, a cutting glance there.  I’ve noticed it but honestly hadn’t realized how bad it has become until this past weekend.  My friend Cara came up to visit, our first chance to really see each other since she’s been home from Ecuador other than our short breakfast a couple of weeks ago.

The thing you have to know about our friendship is that there is no other person on the planet that knows more of my “ugly” than Cara, mainly because “ugly” doesn’t scare Cara off.  During her visit, she asked me the hard questions about everything and as I told her the honest, gut-wrenching truth about all of it, it became glaringly obvious that I’m in a season of being a bit jaded with God.

(Excellent news: I was not struck by lightening for typing that last sentence.  Sweet relief.)

The dictionary uses the word “callous” to describe being jaded, with callous described as “emotionally hardened, toughened, unfeeling.”  I’d say that’s a pretty fair assessment of how I’m reacting to Him lately.  Don’t get me wrong — He and I have our good moments, of course.  But He and I also know the truth: this is not how I normally am with Him.  My heart is, at times, hardened towards Him and I don’t like it.  I know the things to do to fix it, but there’s a little part of me, the jaded part that whispers the same thing each time: “Walk away.  It’s easier.”  I started hearing the jaded part a year ago and, as the months have gone by, the voice has gotten louder: “Just walk away.  It’s easier.  You’re not even in vocational ministry anymore.  Just go ahead and walk away.”

– — –

And I’m hoping He’s got the same idea I had when it came to Avi the other night, that He’s telling me how it’s gonna be –

“Not loving you is not an option.  If you go away, I will find you.”