buried in my pocket

i refuse to drag my purse to shows or bars for two reasons: 1) i cannot allow myself to become one of "those girls" who dance with a midget (purse) slung over their shoulder; 2) i cannot entrust the contents of said purse to the general public when i leave it at the table to go dance. so every week, as i mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically prepare for our thursday evening gathering at gluek's, i push the limits of my coat pockets to see how much they can take. in recent weeks, i have succesfully crammed some combination of the following into my sad little pockets: cell phone, id, the credit and debit cards that probably shouldn't stay within the tempting confines of my parked car on the streets of downtown, lip gloss, mirror, cigarettes, gloves, lighter, gum, newspaper (don't ask), iPod, water bottle, advil, chapstick.

so, in the wee hours of the morning, in the post-gluek's cleaning-out of my courdoroy jacket pockets, i found my id, my check card, a few pieces of gum, my iPod, some chapstick, and the sad remainder of a cigarette. i cannot nail down exactly why, but the ashen remains of that cigarette made me extravagantly grateful.

a handful of my beautiful beloved friends are going through some of the hardest things in their lives. i am trying to stand beside them with my heart in my hands, witholding my need to fix everything, and my own questions keep coming to the foreground. am i really fulfilled, "happy", complete? is this how it will be and who i will be for the rest of my life? these questions are nothing new to me. i've been staring into a dirty mirror with blurry eyes for probably a year now. but tonight, i was given the gift of staring into the face of gratefulness.

i was extravagantly grateful for my own heartache and emptiness because it reminds me that i am not alone... that my ache is known by and familiar to not only to my friends, but to a God who is infinitely greater than this world. i have a Partner who has given me the ability to change, to actually become a different kind of person because He lives inside of the shallows of my heart.

authentic change, the kind that resets your entire way of being, is not something you can "buck up" to, something you can accomplish if left to your own devices. and that is exactly why Christ doesn't leave us to our own devices.

that ciggy remnant reminded me of the conversations, the swollen eyes, the smiles, and the beautiful faces of my blessed friends who have dwelt too long in lonelines; who have stumbled to find a way out of this present darkness. but greater is the One that takes up residence inside the dark corners of all of us. i wipe my eyes and lift my empty hands in gratefulness.