Olive’s Blog

Next month is Olive’s second birthday.  What am I still doing here??  The year following Olive’s big debut, I granted myself a spiritual leave of absence.  It was as if I had thought and prayed harder during that pregnancy than ever before in my life and when it was over I just turned my brain and heart off.  I drowned out any thoughts about God because they led to questions I couldn’t answer.  I felt as if I so hugely misinterpreted who He is when I sought him more than ever before, that I couldn’t help but wonder if I ever knew him at all.  Confronting those questions led to my wondering if I’ve created every encounter I’ve ever thought I’ve had with Him in my imagination.  

After about a year, I had a dream.  It was as if all that suppressed stuff was forcing its way to the surface through my subconscious.  In this dream I was in a dimly lit, black room with a stage, much like the iMusicast room that Regeneration met in when I first gave my life over to Jesus.  There was a red telephone on the stage.  I was pretty sure I was dead and was in some kind of limbo.  I was in one of the seats among others below waiting for my turn.  Then it came.  I somehow knew God was on the line.  With much hesitation I answered.  God had the voice of a large, older, southern black woman (and no, I hadn’t yet read “The Shack“).  God asked me if there was an olive in my martini.  And like we often do with surrealistic dreams, I knew what He was asking.  And yes, there was an olive in my martini, I confessed.  I had put Olive between us.  That’s all I remembered. 

I knew God was telling me it was time.  My L.O.A. had come to an end.  Trying to confront questions which I cannot answer led to my questioning of every God encounter I’d ever thought I had, major and minor.  After believing for about seven years that I was part of a grand plan of a great and loving god, I cannot articulate the pain in sincerely contemplating if it all really is random, death is death, and on top of that my Olive really is gone.  To say that it was an uncomfortable process would be an understatement.  At one point I cursed God for reminding me where my flash drive was.  I did.  See, we have this thing, God and I, where, when I lose something important, I ask Him where it is and He tells me.  So, after searching every possible place I could think of and still coming up dry, it occurred to me to ask the one true know-it-all.  I got on my knees, quieted my head, and said to him something along the lines of, “Hi.  I know we haven’t talked for a long time… But I lost my flash drive… And I know you know where it is, so if you’d like to let me know…”  And of course it came to me.  I should have been grateful.  I should have been ecstatic.  Instead, I was more like WTF??  (Sorry mother-in-law and everyone else who reads this whom I respect.  But really, WTF?????)  ”Ok, so you’re really there.  So, where WERE you?????”  I was devastated.

However, I came to the conclusion that I still believe.

So, then what?  I tried signing up for a few women’s bible studies because, well, that’s what you do, right?  I recall worship sessions being like a flood of arguments in my head about the truth in the lyrics projected on the screen in front of me.  I hated it.  It felt like my skin was being clawed off, not to be dramatic.  I remember, despite all the arguments proceeding in my head about the teachings in the studies, receiving nuggets of gold that would surely help me move on into a “normal” walk with God.  But then I’d forget what they were.  

I can’t say I didn’t think this would happen if Olive wasn’t healed.  I was well aware.  I guess I just didn’t expect it to take so long to overcome.  She’d have turned two this November.  And here I am.  I am happy and blessed.  I love my life.  I know I lack a certain joy, though.  I don’t pray.  I don’t know how anymore.  They hit the ceiling, if you know what I mean.  I keep looking for something… Something to jolt me out of this funk.  A key.  A breakthrough.  Nothing. 

Despite my frustration in my need for some tangible means to move forward, I’m beginning to understand that I’m right where I’m supposed to be and I need to just be.

Insight welcome.