Bitter and Sweet

Sometimes I am truly amazed when I stop and think of the path my life has taken.  When I evaluate the places I’ve gone and the person I’ve become and the people that walk this life with me, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.  It’s not that I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of, but somehow, as I get older and my hindsight vision becomes more acute, it has become clear that my little nook in this world is so much better than anything I could have dreamed up for myself.

I love those moments of complete clarity, when however brief it may be, I am able to look past the day’s stress or heartache and just melt into a still, quiet peace and understanding that I am right where I’m supposed to be.  That somehow, despite my human error and selfishness and shortsightedness, God has guided me through this messy life and made something sweet.  And it may not be perfect and there are still some rough edges, but somehow it is all right.

These moments don’t happen often for me, usually because I’m too busy to look for them.  Sometimes they are so quick and mundane that it’s easy to miss them.  Just a few weeks ago, on a Friday night, Steve took me out for a Chinese dinner.  We drove to the restaurant in our new-to-us 1994 GMC truck.  It was pouring – early spring rain, warm air, dusky gray and orange sky.  I kept stealing glances at my husband.  He was so proud to be driving that truck – sad to have sold his sporty 2007 Mazda, but happy and confident that this truck would be a better fit for us financially.  I felt so taken care of.  So safe.  So madly in love with this man.  Just as I was sorting through these thoughts, Steve looked over and winked and told me that I was a “truck girl”… his truck girl.  I love it.

I felt this warm contentment a few months ago too, at a funeral.  Kelly, my friend since before I could talk, and her husband Ben had just placed their baby girl in the arms of Jesus.  It was an impossibly sad situation.  Even though we’d all known since before her birth that this day would come, our hearts were torn apart.  And yet, when the funeral was over and all of our friends gathered together for a meal, my heart had never felt so full.  This particular group of friends is truly incredible.  We’ve been through so much together – Grade school and college.  Dating and break-ups.  Weddings and funerals.  Births and deaths.  Growth and change.  Arguments and restoration.  Irritation and appreciation.  Love and move love.  Somehow, we’ve stayed together all these years.  We just fit.  And no matter what happens, I know that they’ve got my back, just as I’ve got theirs.  It’s beautiful, to feel that kind of connection.  To have relationships that make you feel like you are part of something great and special and God-given.

The older I get, the more necessary I find it to recount these moments.  To swallow life whole – the bitter and the sweet.  To trace my path with gratitude and thanksgiving.  Because no matter how hard it has been, every step along the way has shaped me into who I am today... and who I am still becoming.  The periods of waiting are long, but there is a purpose in them.  So I rejoice and keep looking for moments of warmth—those tiny packages from God—to carry me through.

Let me wrap this up with a quote from a book called Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist.  Knowing my infertility struggle, my boss gave me this book to borrow, and it has encouraged my heart in so many ways.  I was sobbing (good tears!) after reading these words from the prologue:

… Bittersweet is the idea that in all things there is both something broken and something beautiful, that there is a sliver of lightness on even the darkest of nights, a shadow of hope in every heartbreak, and that rejoicing is no less rich when it contains a splinter of sadness.

Bittersweet is the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and the sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul.  Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through, what helps us earn the lines on our faces and the calluses on our hands.  Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity.  Bittersweet is courageous, gutsy, earthy.  (Niequest 11)

Amen!