The In-between

I was going to be brave. I had set my alarm. Picked out an outfit. But I didn't sleep well. I turned off my alarm. I stayed in bed.

I appreciate that my bedroom is at the back of the house. A small dirt area and an old wood fence separate it from a two-story apartment building. My room is relatively dark the hours after the sun blazes into the heights.

This morning, a subdued antique gold color gently bathed through the window and stretched onto the wall. For some reason, it comforted me. I hadn't realized I needed to be comforted.

It's Easter morning. It doesn't feel like Easter. I am not sure what Easter is supposed to feel like these days.

Maybe I am a hopeless nostaglic and I have a tendency to remember what it used to be like back in the day. Not sure which day, just not today.

Even though it is Resurrection Sunday, I still feel very much as if I am stuck in Saturday. The in-between day. The everything-isn't-quite-right day because they didn't know what was to come. The day of not understanding. The day of mourning.

But I will keep running, walking, crawling, limping towards Sunday.

Maybe that's the point after all. Maybe it's always supposed to feel like the in-between because it always will be until it's not.

Lately, I have been wondering what I am supposed to be doing. I have my family and my job. But what more? I don't know. It could be that just being honest and raw in this space is the more for now. And I don't have to be brave, because I'm not, really. I just have to be obedient.

And eventually find a church again. Even if I feel as if I will never belong somewhere again, because I am incapable of fitting in.

Learning to be obedient in the in-between. It'll take a lifetime of grace-covered mistakes, but I won't give up on it. On Him.