May Day

Contrary to the last week, wherein I pretty much left the blogosphere high and dry, I tend to be a communicator.  I like words.  I make up words.  I speak them, write them, and sing them.  Probably too much. I like communication, in general.  In fact, I have a dual degree in Psychology and Communication Disorders and Speech Science, and a Master's in Speech Pathology.  So really, I like how words are formulated and executed, from the brain, through the anatomy, and out through written or spoken word.  For that matter, I like sign language, too.  And all sort of nonverbal communication.  I send email communications on behalf of my worship ministry at church.  I've been asked to manage a musical production for our church, which essentially boils down to a bunch of phone calls, emails, and face-to-face chats.  I like information, and when used well, I do believe that knowledge is not power, per se, but powerful. 

And thanks to God's grace, I am trusted with a boat load of information and confidences from folks in my life.  I am wired for this.  And I wouldn't change a thing.

But there are days.

Days when my spirit seeks quiet, and there isn't any. 

Because a dear family member is terribly sick.  Or maybe a friend's family member passes away.  Or someone I love needs "another test" to assure good health.  Or a baby is fighting for his life, and may live, but only God knows if he will live well.  Or a relationship is broken.  Or a child needs soothing because of one of the innumerable inequities of life. 

Days which tire me so.  Days when this gift of communication seems more like a liability.

But God. 

God is in this.  He is the lifter of our heads.  The healer of the broken-hearted.  The amazing, holy, righteous, magnificent, glorious Maker of the universe.  And I know he cares.  About each disease and hurt.  Each relationship.  Each child.  Each hair on His children's heads.  He cares that I hurt when my loved ones hurt.  And when I cry "May Day!", His Spirit is the healing balm to my weary spirit.  For His yoke is gentle, and His burden is light.