Have you ever seen the childrens movie Coraline? Do you remember the part where as she walks deeper into the magical world it slowly starts to unravel? That is what happened to me today. As I entered my Starbucks, located here in the hospital, I had an instant feeling something was amiss. It no longer appeared to me as a safe haven that I can escape to when being sick becomes too real. The lights didn't glow like embers, the people didn't seem as warm, and the big purple arm chair sat rather lumpy. As I sat there I realized it was only an overpriced coffee shop in a hospital. It no longer brought fond memories of home. It was sterile, it was ugly, it was simply just another part of this building. I am not sure why I felt this way. It was a bit overcrowded today. I did feel uneasy sitting around so many people. After all I have been here 24 days today, that is almost a month. A whole month that I have had limited human contact. But all the same the visit just did not sit well with me. I noticed nearly everyone had some sort of technical device that they were tied to. Whether it be sitting in front of them, or clenched in their hand as they talked to a dear friend or colleague.
One couple sat at a table for two. They were in their late forties, married, and not once spoke to each other. He sat carefully turning the pages of his newspaper as she starred blankly into her laptop. Everyone was so disconnected. I suddenly realized I don't want to be that way. I don't want the keys on my keyboard to be more familiar than my husbands hands. I don't want the glow of my screen to be warmer than my daughter's smile. I want to live. I want to experience life. Everything here is so sterile. I am afraid I have been here too long. Tomorrow I get to return to my home, my safe haven, my family, my friends, my church and my life. I will be returning not the way I came. I am different now. I am no longer disconnected. I have a burning desire to chase after my God with every part of my being. I only thought I knew what that was before now.....but I didn't.
My hope is in returning home I will be able to let my mind comprehend what my body is doing. As well as let my body comprehend what my spirit is doing and what my God has plans to do. Things are big right now. Everything is big. This is life and it is real. This is not someone else's story. It is mine. My story that will not be left untold. God is the author and I will spend each day patiently waiting with passion to turn the page to the next chapter. I know I am not, but as I sit here and weep with overwhelming emotion I say, I know the great I Am.