Of plumb bobs and an ox

 “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand”  Zechariah 4:10a

This was a verse used in a reading from this morning. Holy Mackerel, I thought. Yes indeed. While I wasn't sure exactly where there were Biblical words that said what I was thinking, there they are. In actual words from one of God's prophets. I love it when that happens. (I don't know why this paragraph won't line up right  like the rest of them. Oh well.)

You see, since around 1993, when I received a diagnosis of a lifelong mental illness for which I would always need medication (PILLS! How insulting!), I decided the best way to handle the situation was to look at it as something to learn from, rather than as a dis-something...disorder, disease, what-have-you. An educational experience of sorts. an "Ok God, what am I meant to do with this?" kind of thing. It was a way to handle it and dispose of the potential despair. And it did, help that is. Oh sure, it was a fairly painful process. I was initially deeply insulted that there was something wrong with this part of me for which I was super proud. It was as if God said "Stop it, You don't get to be proud of it anymore." and the insult was gone, replaced by a humility that said "now you're like everyone else you looked down on" (gaaah what a jerk I was!). God took a thing people would call "bad" and used it for something good. It's a lot easier to be nice to people when you aren't looking down your nose at them. 

When Himself died, I used the same approach. "What am I meant to learn from this?" That kept me from despair, along with the solid knowledge that he was released from the frustrations of this world and in Heaven, able to sing in tune and probably swapping woodworking ideas with Jesus. What a happy thought! Yes, I missed him and still do, but knowing I'll see him again, that it's "see you later!" and not "Goodbye" is a comfort beyond measure. But other than that, I'm not entirely sure what, exactly, I'm meant to do/learn with the experience. 

And Grief 2.0 with the passing of Capt, what am I meant to learn? Capt's fishing with Peter now, standing barefoot (he hated shoes) on a sunny beach with Jesus, swapping ideas, probably laughing with Himself over the ridiculous things I've done, rolling their eyes about my flannel shirts and hiking boots. (When's she going to learn to dress like a girl?)  But what am I supposed to do with the stuff I've learned from my relationship with him? I DON'T KNOW (yet).  I'm still working through losing him here. I'm still trying to stop crying every time I talk about him or think about something we did together. I still have to keep tissues handy when I'm writing here. (*sniff)

BUT...thanks to Zechariah, and a plumb bob (actually all about the building of the Temple)...I know God's building something here. Not sure what, yet, but something. And God does good things. He's a master builder. He knows what He's doing even if I don't. It may take my entire life to figure it out. I may never know exactly what He's doing, but that's ok. Does an ox know where the driver is taking him? Nope, he just trusts the driver and plods along. That's me, plodding along, stepping in the mud and grumbling about it, but still plodding.