A Distant War

I had every intention of writing a post for today's Theology Thursday last night before going to bed, but I was too tired from hanging out with friends all evening eating pizza, laughing, and talking about men. This morning, there was a massive snow storm which resulted in work sending us home early. I had every intention of writing this post when I got home, but I took a walk in the snow to our neighborhood grocery co-op, made lunch at home, called the car insurance company, did my taxes, and then watched the documentary "Candyman" about David Klein, the man who invented Jelly Belly candies. I had every intention of writing the post after the movie, but then I researched more about David Klein, read a touching article about a man named Vladimir who had lived through the Sarajevo war and now lives in the US, and then researched how to make my own homemade gummy bears.

While I felt a bit guilty sending this out in the netherworld so haphazardly and when the day is nearly over for me (in this time zone it is 10:18pm), I look back on the past 24 hours and I wouldn't have chosen to change anything about this day. My time with friends was gloriously refreshing, I had a delightful sleep and an unhurried morning. Work was pleasant as all my coworkers and even the Executive Director were watching the windows like children for the first snow fall. We were able to go home early as the roads were laden with snow by midday and I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting my neighborhoods, resting, being productive, and learning new things about candy makers, candy making, the war in Sarajevo, and that hedgehogs taste like pork. (see war article)

In the background of my mind, I berated myself for being lazy in delaying my post for the day, but then God reminded me that this is my blog and I can post whenever I want, or don't want. It is not a sin to post late on a blog.
That got me thinking about how we, or at least I, sometimes rate the worth of a day based on my own expectations for what it should contain or be like. In the end, it is the Lord that makes the days, and whether they are filled with horrors or delights, or downright oddness, every day contains the weight of worth because it is one more day to live knowing the Goodness of God and His righteousness that he offers to us in love.

While going through a really dark time, it was hard to imagine that anything would ever be better or that I'd even survive "to see the Goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." Vladimir, decades after the war, still remembers vividly the stress and horrors he faced then, but his life safely tucked in the United States with his wife and little girl is drastically different. The title of the article, "Recognizing Yourself in a Distant War" is rather beautiful in my opinion. The past three months have felt, after years and years, like the first break in experiencing a long internal and circumstantial war. A day like today is so starkly different compared to most of last year alone that I feel as if I am seeing myself in memories of those years as in an old photograph. I remember the pain, I recognize myself, but even the few changes that have occurred to improve my situation lately seem inordinately mind boggling. I have a hard time trusting the changes, but I rejoice in them by gratefully embracing days like these. I choose to trust God's goodness for the peaceful seasons as I did during those war-like times.

Psalm 118:17-24, 29

"I will not die but live,
and will proclaim what the Lord has done.
The Lord has chastened me severely,
but he has not given me over to death.

Open for me the gates of righteousness;
I will enter and give thanks to the Lord.
This is the gate of the Lord
through which the righteous may enter.
I will give you thanks, for you answered me;
you have become my salvation.

The stone the builders rejected
has become the capstone;
the Lord has done this,
and it is marvelous in our eyes.
This is the day the Lord has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it.
...
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever."