I had some thoughts tucked away for Out-of-the-Box day, but I had such an experience this past week, I thought I’d take advantage of blogging’s now-ness and post it in the moment, as they say. My sister, Annie, might say, “Carpe Diem!”
But while I’m seizing the day, I’ll let you know The Day Seized Me. Technically, it was evening, but if that doesn’t matter to you, it doesn’t to me, either. 🙂
We were watching a movie. A movie we heard was boring. A movie we heard was a disappointment. It came out right after a big hit movie with the same superstar, so I figured it was fickle Hollywood not being able to accept two good movies from the same actor in a row.
The movie had an interesting premise, and a (slightly?) Lord-of-the-Flies perspective of human nature in desperate times, but I wasn’t prepared for one of the scenes. It slapped me back to the worst days (pausing to consider the truth of that phrase … yes, I would have to say the worst, but I’ve had a few near close) of my life. And I couldn’t breathe.
Those images put me slap back in a box I’d been in years and years and years ago. And I couldn’t breathe.
I left the room. And my family knew why. They turned off the “boring” DVD. My daughter began her evening medical routine (I could hear the bathwater beginning to run) and the guys came in to give a hug, which was somewhat barred by the pillow between us, as I sat quiet-sobbing, gasp-breathing and pleading to God … help me.
It was a tough night. But God was there. The guys read to me from the Bible for a very long time, and God rested me in sleep.
But it was a tough next day. My sweet homeschool co-op group was a soothing balm, as stepping out of the box while feeling trapped in the box was a walk of faith – again. I kept stepping, trusting God with each step, with each smile I gave each child, each mom, each moment, receiving His love in each smile they gifted me with.
That afternoon, I slept. I awoke. The box threatened; I curled up in a dark little ball accepting the box. Again. I went through all the stages of grief in 36 hours, one by one. Again.
But the box, as real as it felt, wasn’t really there anymore. Somehow, I wasn’t going to let the box win. Again. God – oh GOD! – wasn’t going to let the box win. He had busted that box wide open, and if I was going to get back in it, I would have to rebuild the box myself.
No. No box for me. Not this week.
I like living and I can live. Out of the box.
Have you experienced recurring boxes in your life? Are you living in them? Or out of them?