I have been having an Ecclesiastes kind of week.
You know the kind.
Where it all seems pointless and useless and the biggest things you can dream of doing still seem smaller than an acorn. I've been wanting to crawl up under the covers and call it quits. My single life seems so meaningless.
We were watching Lion King, me and Viv, sprawled out in the couch in the midst of my apathy.
Simba, believing he is responsible for his father's death, runs from home and spends years idling and hiding from his shame. But a great king is not apt to allow his heir to continue on casually while the kingdom crumbles around him. In an unexpected vision Mufasa rolls out of the clouds and rebukes his son.
"You have forgotten me."
Simba balks and says he could never forget his father. Yet Mufasa tells him that by failing to take his place and carry his responsibility Simba is denying him.
"Remember who you are. You are my son!"
And from my seat on the couch I sat as speechless as Simba. My Father was also speaking to me.
Remember who you are. You are my daughter!
I have trouble believing this. I have trouble owning that I am truly His child because I feel too useless and small. Yet I am. He tells me I am. And by being His daughter He has something for me to do. It matters.
When I shirk and regret and despair what I am really saying is not that I don't believe in myself. I am saying that I don't believe in Him. That I have forgotten Him.
As small and pitiful as I feel I cannot deny my God. So stopped at each traffic light today I turned my face toward the clouds and purposefully imagined the voice of James Earl Jones breaking through with the words I had to hear to keep going.
Remember who you are...