Exceptional God intervenes without an invitation Midlife intervention by GWHARGIS

So what? I drink. I curse, and tell it like it is. I'm 50. I've earned the right. For years, I bit my tongue and grew in grace. What did that get me? An ulcer, a disinterested husband, belligerent children and an addiction to Ben and Jerry's. My once large group of friends has dwindled to three. But that's fine. If you can't handle the truth I preach, I don't need you. I've been to church, to book clubs, to hot yoga (which is quite the deceptive name), to wine and paint parties. I've done it all to broaden my horizons. My three remaining friends told me it would be fun. They lied. It wasn't. How can you have fun when you hate your life. Okay, okay, that was a bit dramatic. I don't hate my life, just parts of. I hate the emptiness. Hate feeling like it's me against the world. Hate feeling like if I'm not being a bitch or behaving badly, I will fade into the wall paper and no one will miss me. Transformation should feel like a bolt of lightning, right? I'll ask Him again. What do I do? How do I fix me? If you don't answer me, maybe you don't exist. My eyes are stinging. Not crying, just a little pissed at the overwhelming silence. Once again, with feeling this time. God, tell me! The silence screams. I walk to the window. Watch the birds flying over to the electric wires strung between poles. The soft peach of twilight is brushed across the sky. Close your eyes, you idiot. It's only a real prayer if you close your eyes. I clamp them shut to ease the burn of tears. The silence washes over me. I listen. He whispers in my ear. Love yourself. Love your flaws. I love you. I love every cell, every molecule that makes you. Love me first, but love yourself. You were not a mistake. But you are not who I intended you to be. Trust me. Don't be afraid to be who I intended you to be. I open my eyes. The sky has changed to soft purple. I walk to the bar and pick up the open bottle of wine. Goodbye. I tip it into the sink. I pick up my cell phone and call my husband. "Just wanted to call and tell you ... I just haven't said it in so long. I really do love you." He clears his throat. "Are you, um -," "Drinking?" I laugh. I would have asked the same thing if I were him. "No. I just woke up." "I was going to ask if you were okay?" His laugh is warm. One of my favorite things is his laugh. "I'll be home in a bit. Should I grab a bottle of vino?" "No. I just want it to be the two of us." "I love you, too." He hangs up. I cradle the phone in my hand. I feel different. I feel loved. Maybe soon, I will learn to love myself. But for now, He loves me. I go back to the window, watching the sky change and enjoying the stillness. Recognized Author Notes Been reading a lot about people and how they keep their faith. Even in the loudest storms the faithful find peace. Hope you enjoy this. Thank you to Joan McKay for the use of her picture.

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