We walked in, and the first thing she did was pick up one of those little balloons on a stick. You know the teeny tiny ones? She got one for herself and handed her brother one, which he proceeded to brandish on and about my head the entire trip around the store, yelling, BOP! BOPBOPBOPBOPBOP! and yes, it about drove me crazy but? It kept him from craning his whole torso heavily from one side of the cart to another and stretching himself out like a post-nap kitten to try and reach stuff he saw that he just. couldn't. live. without.
Bean, on the other hand, followed me around, using her balloon as a magic wand. With a flourish, she made items appear on the shelves - the milk, the Ovaltine, the loaf of bread, the ditallini (that one took some doing!) - just before my fingers reached for them.
And it's trite, but I'm saying it anyway: I double-wish. I quadruple-wish! That I could hold a balloon-on-a-stick magic wand in my own hands. Right now, (as ever), I look around me - just around me in my own tiny little life! - and see so many difficult situations, so many hurting hearts, so much illness and pain and suffering; death, divorce, sickness, despair, depression, loneliness, anxiety, boredom and beaten-down-ness, misunderstandings and misrepresentations, and just ... miss-ing. And I quadruple-wish I could wave a pink Care Bear balloon over all of this and make it stop. MAKE IT STOP. Even my own little wounds and aches and not-understandings, though they pale in comparison to some of the other problems and heart-holes that gape awkwardly out at me from the faces and voices of people I care about (and people I don't even know), ... I'd (probably) put myself last, but in the end, I'd finally wave a wand over ME.
And oh, how I wish I had a cheery philosophically-minded bow to wrap up a post like this - God is in control! He's already written the ending to each of these stories! He's bigger than the biggest chaotic hair-ball of pain and envy and suffering and unfairness! Even though I do believe each of those things with all of my heart (and most of the time I walk through life in trust and hope that may appear ridiculous to some), today I want to wrest that wand away from His hand and, not because I want the power or glory of it for myself, just because I want the end to suffering to come NOW, I just want to wave it.
Wave it hard and high and mightily over everything and everyone, to clean it all up and make it stick that way forever. Put the broken back together, infuse the hopeless with delight, wipe the despairing clean and shiny with promise, restore the down-trodden to liberating joy. Survey the peace around me and breathe, finally, a sigh of relief.
I'm not big enough. I know this. I can't see the real truth in it all and my solutions would mix together wrong because I'm not Him.
But I still want to wave it.
I still do.