we just got home from church. my sweet baby girl is teething and slept for about an hour total last night, so after getting people changed, doped up on the meds and fed, i was given a free pass this evening to eat my enchilada in peace while matt is putting the girls down.
this time should be spent eating and simultaneously getting indigestion from the intense laughter caused by watching tonight show episodes with jimmy fallon, but you know what? all i want to do is cry a bit. but i can’t start right now, because i’m afraid that if i start, then i won’t be able to stop, and i’ve got to eat dinner or everything will seem worse, and i should probably just hit the hay since the teething festivities started right after i got in bed last night, and when you take into account….
this is a problem.
i am trying to figure out when it might be a good time to cry. instead of just letting those salty tears fall on my tortilla chips and give them an added kick.
i’m not sad i have a teething baby. i’ve been around the block before, i know she will not head off to prom snotting on my shoulder because of the pain of teething. it’s a season and i get that, but this particular season of hardship has been long and deep and far reaching. today hurts.
tonight at the service i saw my sweet friend whose precious baby boy was born right before nora may and is in the hospital, and as she explains the next steps of their complicated and difficult road they did not choose to walk i am brought low and my heart hurts.
after this, i walk outside to the car and turn my phone on to text my friend whose husband asked to meet with her after a time of separation while he contemplated if he wanted to be married. i want to instead travel through that phone and then share a few words of wisdom with him like maybe you should’ve contemplated that BEFORE marrying my sweet friend.
to the strong beautiful mother fighting tooth and nail for the best medical treatment for her son, to the brave and cherished friend walking into a conversation not knowing if she will walk out married or not, to the tender and mourning friends healing from yet another lost child i simply say… put down the enchilada… it is the enchilada that can wait and not the falling apart.
you are known. created with beauty and intentionality with the knowledge that you would sit in this day and that it would hurt. you are held. it is not the callousness of the one who made you that allows you to walk this road, but instead the grace found in the hold of that maker on you as you walk this road.
today hurts. let it.
as we fall apart into pieces, shattered as our hopes may have been, may our hope be in the one who knew both how to make us initially, who saw the blow coming that would shatter us, and who knows how to put us back together so the light can shine through the tears.