dark

Pitch-black

Unseeable 

Dank

Suffocating 

Scary

Dry

Pushing against

Pushing back

Boogeyman 

No light

Blind

DARK

I am wrestling with God in a dark place.   I have been very aware of the darkness, but as my wrestling match continues I am even more aware of the match itself, and all the descriptive ways I feel as each wrestler enters the ring to work out.  I know very little of how these matches get scored or how to win but I am in the ring, it is dark, it is often suffocating, there is sweat.  Sometimes it feels less like a wrestling match and more like a garden patch...fresh soil in, bulbs planted in the cold, moist dirt, then wait for the sun to shine, roots to take hold and the push back against the process from bulb to beauty.

What it feels like in the dark wrestling match from dirt; dank, moist and suffocating, to what will be a push thru to victory and beauty, dirt on my head, some sore muscles and maybe a bogeyman or two.

My dirty dark place is the why and the how, the on-going observation on the process of a body going from life into death, the acceptance or non-acceptance at times, saying good-byes and hoping it isn't the last good-bye, the curious wonder of each symptom or non-symptom.

The dark cries each night as I ponder and I think about the end of this life's journey as my family and friends continue on their longer road without me in it...that is a wrestling match only God and I can maneuver.   In the dirt, in the pushback, with the bugs and the mire, when all I can do is cry out, He is in it with me, dirty, sweaty, pushing back, crying out too and we wrestle until a rest is called.  After rest...and maybe some more rest, we wrestle again until a peace of some sort is reached.

But in the dark, wet space we are wrestling together to some sort of calm and peace until I need to push back more and understand. And the peace will come, in its time, in its way but through it He and I will find our way.