She’s been haunting me, taking still shots of my life without my permission, beaming like one of those overly-enthusiastic photographers, “Look! Isn’t it lovely? It’s lovely right? And you’re lovely. You’re so lovely in it. Do more of that, that half smile with your chapped lips almost cracking apart.”
Do you ever imagine your life with a soundtrack? I do. Most days it’s comprised of the deep drum beats of Florence + the Machine that make me feel mad and beautiful as I walk around this place with over-sized headphones on like it’s nobody’s business but mine how God speaks to me in rhythm and rhyme.
I took a lot of road trips when I was little. Mom would make a fortress in the back seat of the van before the safety belt campaign got so militant. When we were with Dad, it was all we could do to feel the cool leather seats of the Jeap beneath our thighs with all the instant noodle cups sliding around over boxes and boxes of legal paper. With his Diet Pepsi (better than Coke in a blind taste test he would always remind us), he’d flip on the anthem that began every journey over 30 minutes – Tom Cochrane’s “Life is a Highway.” As the car moved faster, I’d look out the window and imagine the credits rolling over the sulking, freckled face girl, sitting contemplative, mad and beautiful.
I don’t know why I’ve been panicking, panicking, panicking these days. And all I can think to do to make the panic go away is buy a nice gray rug for my bedroom or book a trip, anywhere.
Perfume. I also want perfume, a perfume I used to wear six years ago. I think if I could just spray this perfume, this familiar reminder that I was once okay and will be again, I will be well. It will be well. But I’m a God-fearing woman and I know money is never the answer.
Except when it is. Except when I remember that she’s been haunting me with highlight reels from my life as it’s unraveling now. Except when I trust that God is teaching me something about home in these slow-motion moments, how to choose home, how to love home, how to feel home.
With a click and a prayer, I purchase Sarah Jessica Parker’s scent, “Lovely.” Yes, I am. Yes, God is. We are both mad and beautiful and home. It’s lovely right?