The families come in packs of seven, twelve, twenty-two. The mothers hold their pig-tailed babies and the babies hold the tiny flags, waving country pride and gripping a symbol they know nothing about. Maybe I know nothing of it, either.
We gather on the 18th hole of the famous golf course, a line of condos behind us, the harbor before us. We set our chairs up to face the water, spread out our blankets and wait while the sun sinks down slow in front of us.
The couple to our right sits close, whispers long. She holds a sparkler. He holds a beer.
The family behind us throws a football and apologizes every time the youngest wanders over to our blanket. A group of six have their bikes parked to our left. They sit in a circle and laugh about things I can’t hear, things they all have in common, things they all understand.
They all belong, or so it seems.
In the midst of a community gathering like this, it’s easy to see the beloved-ness of others.
It’s easy to watch them with their hot dogs and their jokes and their frisbees from far off and believe they have it easy. The stories of strangers are so convenient, so untainted by the pain of divorce, the threat of cancer, the rejection of friends.
We can’t see the fight they had in the car on the way here.
We don’t hear the voice of the lover who found someone else to love.
We won’t ever know she lost the baby, he lost the job, they lost their mother.
All we see is a group of smiling, hamburger-eating, lemonade-drinking, firework-waiting families on a day in early July.
I am guilty of slapping them all with greener grass, of looking toward the warm yellow glowing windows of their condos, of wondering what it would be like to walk in their easy shoes.
I generally see the world as a half-full glass. But even in the half-full, there is emptiness on top and sometimes that emptiness shows up even as I will it not to.
Brave is a valiant word, but sometimes brave doesn’t look extraordinary. Sometimes, for me, it means digging in my heels right where I am and finding home even though it isn’t what I wished it was, even in the midst of the emptiness, the longing, the soon-but-not-yet.
It is a gift to learn what it means to be with what is, to find contentment in the right-now, to believe God is still good. Being with what is takes courage. Resisting the pull to compare takes belief.
How do you resist this pull in your own life?
Leave a Comment
Amy Hunt says
I like this, Emily. The brave find a home in what is, right Now…”in the longing, in the soon-but-not-yet.” Yes, that is brave. A perspective I really hadn’t considered before and one I’m glad for today. Savoring this.
Anonymous says
I resist the pull by the Truth, the Word….Hebrews 12, keeping my focus on Jesus and throwing off the weights and sins that ensnare me. Asking myself “what are the weights” and “what are my sins” in a given circumstance that are clouding my vision and hindering my heart. Believing God will not withhold any good thing from me. He is good and cannot be otherwise. Even so, it’s not without pain, but God knows that, too. He knows I’m fragile and weak and that things have to be worked through with Him. There is no formula for every circumstance but the Truth must be the foundation.
Kristen Strong says
“It is a gift to learn what it means to be with what is, to find contentment in the right-now, to believe God is still good.” ~ good truth for this fellow half-full-glass-but-sometimes-the-empty-part-sneaks-in girl to bravely carry in my heart and soul today! Love you, friend.
wanda says
Watching out for what’s {right now} for me and the ones I love…today!
Happy Independence Day!
Beth Williams says
Brave sometimes, means digging in my heels right where I am and finding contentment at work even in the midst of the emptiness, the longing, the soon-but-not-yet.
I know I have a good job, but I still envy people with “better paying–more satisfying work”. God keeps showing me ways that I’m still needed/important at work.
Bravey looks to me like a stay at home mom taking care of several youngsters and trying to maintain a house or a working mom trying to balance home, work & family obligations.
Thanks for all you do!
God Bless
Kerry @ Made For Real says
A lot of prayer and reliance on Him!! Loved this, Emily. 🙂
Lynda says
Thank you, Emily. You put words to what is in my heart on this kind of holiday. I don’t have the family unit I thought I would have at 51, but I have Jesus. And that is more than enough.
Heidi says
R-E-A-L-L-Y needed this reminder tonight!!!
RJB says
Yes, yes!
And I recognize this beautiful spot 🙂 Planning to be close by in a few days!
LaDonna @ Santa Beso says
I knew this was you writing just by the pictures. You have such a gift with pictures and words.