The chair. The *chair*! I couldn’t believe it when I saw the chair at my neighbor’s yard sale. Inviting, comfy, roomy. I knew that this would be *my* chair – an easy decision to spend $30. We quickly did some rearranging in our living room and carted in my chair.
I’d just found out the day before that my job was being eliminated. I was stunned. This chair was a little manna for the day – and coming days.
The summer of 2015 was rather rainy and hot in my area. I used that as an excuse to stay inside. Summers for me are usually full of walks, yard work, and outdoor projects. But this year, I had no heart for any of it. I sat in my chair. Just sat. I didn’t read, I didn’t pray, I didn’t really do anything. I sat. Stunned. Anxious. Sad. Depressed. Angry. I spent 80% of my days in that chair. Our cats would visit me, my guy would come and go, the sun would come and go. I sat. I watched a patch of sky above my neighbor’s house.
I met with my spiritual director and told her about my chair. I was surprised at how I just sat there. So unlike me. That’s all I could do. I was hunkering down, healing. My life was suddenly unpredictable and uncertain, but the world in my chair was known and safe. She asked, “While you’re sitting in your chair, do you have a sense of God with you?” I thought for a moment. I hadn’t felt an absence of God – I knew God was with me, even though I hadn’t prayed much more than, “Help” from time to time. Then, a word came to me: nest. My chair felt like a nest. And I clearly had a sense of God over me, like a protective Mother Hen. I felt safe, loved, accepted by God. No judgement, no shoulds. Just love.
I’m not sitting in my chair as much these days. A few weeks ago, I dragged a small wooden desk into our house that another neighbor was getting rid of… cleaned it up, put it in front of a sunny window, filled the drawers with papers and ideas, pens and folders. Deep breath. I’m ready to get to work. Ready to try to fly again.