|The Road to Emmaus by Liz Lemon Swindle|
So the story of Emmaus goes...
Three days after the Savior's death, two of His disciples walked the dusty road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. As they spoke, they were joined by a traveler who asked about their conversation. The disciples replied, "Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem...they have crucified [Jesus]. But we trusted that it had been he which should have redeemed Israel."
Then the stranger said, "Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?" He then opened the scriptures to them, showing how all of the prophets had testified that Christ would be crucified and rise on the third day. As night fell the disciples asked the traveler to join them for a meal. Sitting together the stranger, "...took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew...[it was Jesus]." - Luke 24:17-32
On my dusty road to Emmaus,
I have found myself at 1 in the morning, praying desperately to understand why everything has to be so hard. Praying for something to change.
I have found myself at 2 in the morning, pacing my house, gazing out at the dark sky speckled with flecks of glittering light and wonder why everything can be so still but my head.
I have found myself at 3 in the morning, staring up at the ceiling until 6 in the morning when my alarm goes off.
I think that maybe I'm experiencing a little fog in my perspective. Try as I might, I can not get above the soupy view I have. I am holding on to this sorrow that at times, is so great and burdensome, I can't see any hope in tomorrow let alone understand what God is doing with my life. Surely, there is more purpose to my soul here than just suffering and stumbling through the day.
I am trying to invest in patience, perseverance, perspective and courage... I tell my kids all the time..."Don't judge what God is doing with your life, let him teach you, let His plan for you unfold and watch closely as you are amazed by his miracles."
Lately, I just rush to put my own meanings on what is happening to us. It's just how I'm wired. My brain needs to make sense of the suffering otherwise, it's just a painful sadness. However, I know deep down that I can't forget that this is just part of the plan. THE Plan.
Every time I pray for understanding, the message I get is that sometimes, you just have to endure. And that... is wearisome. I know that, like the disciples on their way to Emmaus, I will realize that in the enduring and the wrestle here in mortality, I will see that the Savior was always there. I will see where he kept me going, where he held me close. I will see that he mourned with me, cried with me and rejoiced with me. In that, I suppose lies the hope that tomorrow will come with more trouble or not but I will watch and wait for those miracles.
In the meantime, I'm trying to find my home in the moment and not be completely ashamed and embarrassed by my life that is a revolving door of problems. It's even been hard to write one line on this blog because lately, it just seems too big, too many problems...too much of a downer. But, it's my life. The good the bad and the ugly and some day, by the grace of God, I'll be done this test and hopefully learned a thing or two and maybe even graduate to become some harp player on a cloud of peace and quiet.