Enter In

I want to live in a library. Maybe not a currently in-use library, but the kind that breath history in their cool, musty interiors. A twisted ivy vine will partially cover my front doors, wide wooden doors with metal knockers and 5 inches of thick, knotted pine.
Can you picture the inside? Creaky wooden floors would accompany a crackling fire in the stone hearth and walls 15 ft. high would be filled with books in the entry and a ladder would hang for access to the very top philosophy section.
It makes me shiver and smile to think about the indoor courtyard. I can imagine my small flower and vegetable garden, trickling fountain, and aviary.
Yesterday I visited my library home and watched from the thick paned windows as they distorted the pine-tree view with old, aged glass and large rain drops. I realized that I am not home yet and once again I was sitting in the blue plastic chair like 50 others lined up as in the DMV office for the Visa officer to approve my passport. A tear leaked from my eye but I think it froze. There wasn’t heat in the 30 degree building.
Five final courses from overseas are coming to an end. I will be free from that burden but not without the last minute bucket of stress-frenzy splashed over my entire life and seeping into my health and relationships. It hit me like a blow, yesterday.
I break here because further details are unnecessary. The point of my post is not me and how I handled my “bad day” but the fact that I could not and did not.
Consider the phrases: “Always find the good in every moment.” “Live life to the fullest” “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” “Seize the day and the moment.”
I was thinking of Job. He cursed the day that he was born.
I made a decision after yesterday…I did not handle yesterday. I fell, I was dragged, I slipped and fell, I cried, got bruised, and was totally beaten by life and all of its circumstances. Perhaps anger and fear and pain and trembling were not the joy that is
“required” by optimists that seize the day, but they were my battle cries and emotions, they were my reaction to the fall of man.
My heart was crying as I curled on my bed following the excursion. I dreamed again of my library house. I decided that I wanted to go and be there. Now. A place that catered to my need for peace, my longing for paradise, my idea of the “perfect place.” I considered the long walks that I would have in my countryside back-yard and the animals and wild flowers that I would find joy in. The clouds in my blue sky turned black and I shivered in my library house all alone. I wanted association, I needed comfort. My “perfect” place was not perfect because I was alone. Alone and cold. My library house was on earth and again I was in a place living with the fallen realities.
Lord, may I live in a library in heaven? Will you be everything to me even when I do not deserve you? You are slow to anger. Remind me that you are slow to become angry with me. Hold me.