I wrote the following to a friend on our ministry forum.
Yeah, Lucia is like [your husband]; she’s simple, but not in a Proverbs way. She is not wound around the axle like me. I’m way too complicated, though I’ve come to terms with it at this point, and I don’t fight being so screwed up.
There is a simplicity on the other side of complexity that does not remove the complexity, but you can live with yourself. Thus, I’m genuinely at peace with myself, though my complexity rears its ugly head from time to time.
Lucia, on the other hand, will never die; she will just fade away, wander off into the sunset, and kinda disappear. Those people live more simple lives. It’s like the end of Forest Gump with the feather wafting back and forth through the atmosphere until it finally moves toward the camera and fades to black.
She’ll just disappear one day, and that will be that.
Dear God, I love that woman. Keep her safe.
I long to be like Lucia, like that, but that is not who I am, and because of the horrible shaping influences in my life, I will always be a complex soul. I’ve realized, as Monk says, “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
The blessing part is that I can think deeply and intricately about soul problems. The curse part is that I can think deeply and intricately about soul problems.
Lucia lives simply. She will never be a formalize counselor. She will never teach anywhere in public. But she is the most amazing, competent person that I’ve ever met. I long to be like her, which is a thought I often have after I free fall into the black hole of my complexity.
After I take my thoughts captive, I’m back to resting in the simplicity that is on the other side of my complexity.
I hope that was not too complex. 😉
Here is how Lucia would say it: “People are different.”
Can you see how we’re different?
Of course, after Lucia sums it up by saying “people are different,” she has finished six more tasks.
I’m still thinking about this one thing.
Dear God, who shall deliver me from this body of death?