the [dust] & its [memories]

     As my dry, dirty fingers plunged into the icy water, my mind began to open the files of memories from days gone by.  All of the precious moments from my life in northern Minnesota began to flood my memory.  Why, it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago that I played with these toys or unwrapped this precious gift, but the dusty rag in my hand was pure evidence of the years these objects had spent in storage. 

     I fought back tears as I went from wiping one dusty cabinet to the next.  Life was so different back then.  Life is so different now.  Thoughts of regret and anticipation flooded my mind as I once again plunged the dirty rag into the icy water.  What would my future hold?  Would there be yet another move and more sorting and packing?  Would my friends be left behind and new ones made elsewhere?  Or would my ‘home’ remain in Southeast Asia for years to come?  Would I continue to wish for someone to understand my past?  Or would I be ok with friends who have known me for a few chapters of my life?

     Then my mind went to my family, the ones who have been there the past seventeen [almost eighteen] years, and I thanked God for blessing me with amazing parents and the six men in my life that I’m proud to call MY brothers.  I really couldn’t have asked for something better!

     But all of that didn’t take away the pain of the friend I had always dreamed of—a sister who would be my bestie and know my life story.  Even though it hurt, and still hurts, I know that my story was written by God, not a scriptwriter for Hollywood or a composer of some earthly song, but a Father Who created the universe.  He knows my story from the end to the beginning.  He understands my jumbled words when I feel like they don’t make sense.  He knows every thought before I even think it and He understands my needs without me even having to explain them.

     Then, once again, the tired little girl looks up at the beautiful sky and whispers a prayer of gratitude to her Abba Father for everything, even when it doesn’t make sense!