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something has seemed "off" in my spirit the past couple of days. i have felt heavy, discouraged. it's as if i've been trying to make it through the day with my normal stride and positive manner but something seems broken.
i'm not a very patient person by nature. then i had children, and found myself smack dab in the middle of a lesson with the lord on patience. yikes. god has grown me and i consider myself pretty patient with my children on many occasions... but whining and tantrums are two things i do not do well with. we've been getting back into our routine since returning from a two week jaunt to texas, and the first couple of days back were bliss. literally. i remember telling nick after we put the girls to bed "they were almost perfect today. really."
and now i'm kicking myself for saying those words.
and it's not just them. it's also me. i've had a short fuse. i've been grumpy and crabby and i've just been in a pretty bad mood. nick kept asking me what was wrong and i just couldn't give him an answer. i didn't even know. until i paused, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks (or in this case, tears). which is usually how grief works. we don't even know that pesky shadow is following us and about to swallow us whole...until it almost does.
i miss my dad almost every minute of every day. but there are times the waves of grief are about to completely take me under.
the summer we moved back to maine was both wonderful and difficult all wrapped into one. dad's health was rapidly declining and i could see the disease he had slowly stealing him away from me. it made me sick to my stomach. kept me up at night. but those long summer days also gifted us some precious times. watching my parents play with bella. family dinners out on the deck. sandwiches from frank's bakery for just dad and me at lunch, where he told me he just wanted to "sit and talk." ordering pizza in on a rainy night. watching dad and nick bond over good conversation and watching sports on tv. sharing the news that we were expecting again...
yes. summer is hard. they make me look back to two years ago, when we had just moved here. we were wide eyed with dreams for what life would be like, only to find them burst a few months later.
i miss the good moments of the last summer my family shared together.
grief can make me irritable. i can lash out in anger at the ones i love most. instead of extending grace and holding crying little ones close, i stomp off in annoyance. instead of depending on god, i shield myself from him... surely he can't help me. grief threatens to steal the moments of joy and LIFE because i'm plagued with thinking about the ones i've lost. almost two years later and i'm still trying to process. life lived with keeping house, working part time and caring for two little ones doesn't lend itself easily to grieving. but i'm finding moments here and there. and tonight was one.
after a couple of hard days where i was not at my finest, i needed god to hold me. broken, ugly, crabby and all. nick had gone to a concert with my brother-in-law and i had just put the girls to bed. it was a cool night tonight and i made myself a cup of tea and settled in a rocking chair on the front porch, just as the last of the day's sun was a faded gold in the sky. as i silently prayed and searched my heart, i could hear emmy's cries through the screen door. i ignored them at first, and as i prayed, i felt god softening my heart after a weekend's worth of hardness.
grace. extend grace. the same grace i was given all weekend by a husband who is patient in knowing his wife's hurt. by sweet friends who listened to my cries for prayer and responded with a sea of love and encouragement. by a god who holds me and doesn't ever let me go.
i ran inside to lift emmy from her crib. brushing her tears, i wrapped her quilt up around her shoulders and carried her out to the front porch with me. bathed in a pool of moonlight, we rocked. her head resting on my chest, her hair tickling my nose as i kissed the top of her head. as i hummed and sang words of old hymns, she gazed at me, eyes big and sparkling. she smiled and clapped her hands. my soul began to settle.
this was exactly what i needed.
as we pause and pray, we find peace and joy. moments like these, they are the balm that sooth our hearts. thank you, god for these gifts.
these babies will be leaving me all too quickly. they will be grown and gone and i don't want to have regret when i look back at these fragile years. will i be perfect? no. always patient? never cross? no. absolutely not. i will always fail. but it's what happens after the failing that makes all the difference.
and in the moments that i find myself lashing out, stressed and broken... i can rest in a savior who loves me desperately.
"he has chosen not to heal me, but to hold me. the more intense the pain, the closer his embrace."
- joni eareckson tada
god did not chose to heal my dad... but he is holding me. he is teaching me to be patient with myself and this road that i am on. to be humble and admit my shortcomings. to ask for help. to pray and lean on him.
and to let myself be held.


