an unexpected visitor came into our home last night, slipping in while the rain drops pounced off our windows. not forcefully, but gently, she planted herself in my heart while we laid with eyes shut. when i woke, she filled my thoughts, not darkness that had greeted me each morning for what felt like lifetimes.
she whispered life and heaven and redemption in my ears, as i rolled over to look at the eyebrows and shoulders and tousled brown hair next to me that i’d grown so comfortable with but that had altered my life so.
she, Hope, wasn’t expected, yet she was so very welcomed, because she had just hours before seemed to have been a forgotten friend that had no plans of journeying back to me. she had felt very far off and unable to be convinced to come for a visit, despite my tearful requests.
as she laid next to me on our striped gray and white sheets, i wondered how long she would stay, but then decided those thoughts should be forgotten. because she was here as a gift, and although i did not know for how long she would choose to stay in my home, i wanted her to be welcomed.
“Your keys are already in your car,” Mary told me as I left the house. It didn’t phase me, until I stepped outside to the sound of my car running, the vents turned all the way up to melt the frost and warm my bones.
“You are loved,” she told me.
The gesture that brought tears helped me to start a day on gratefulness. Yet it grew into one of those days that felt like too much, like him not getting breakfast until after 10 and no time for a lunch break- instead distractedly eating an apple as I sat at my desk, saddened when the first bite revealed a rotten, brown core. Or then the arm brace he’s supposed to wear at night keeps him awake in pain, forgetting to call the doctor back, and not getting pills ready for the morning. All on a night when my body needs to be out the door at 6:30 am. in a few short hours.
These are the days that feel like too much, that this isn’t what I asked for because stress brought from the little just reminds me of the bigger losses I have.
But then there are the sweet gifts, like the new book in the mail that will show me god. The three hours by the fire with a girlfriend and his smile when I come into the room late.
The fire and the conversation with her and the staying up late with him is worth it. Because those are the moments where I get to live and breathe.
Those are the moments where I see God filling me up, filling my emptiness.
this weekend was with our dearest, the ones who stood beside us three years ago on 8/28. at a camp in the mountains, we ate together and slept in sleeping bags and on couches and in pack and plays.
time didn’t matter except for knowing when it was time to eat and time to canoe.
it felt perfect. and happy.
and ian laughed.
and lanterns floated.
and the coyotes started to howl as the fog drifted over the lake and onto our campfire.
and we watched as three floated over the lake, thinking on all that three years had brought.
we talked about god and wondered if maybe those days were a fraction of what heaven would be like. and when it all ended, before it ended but we had to start cleaning, i started crying. because times of refreshment remind me that we’re not in heaven yet. leaving vacations filled with reprieve and entering back into the messiness of life feels like stepping outside of heaven after tasting its sweetness.
this weekend we head to the mountains, to where this marriage began. as we prepare to reunite with those that sat beside us under the chandelier, i think about all of the details that made that day magical.
and all of the people that made it perfect.
and the husband who has made three years worth every cost.
we’ll all be there together, again. and the babies that were in the bellies of the flowered dresses will be scampering through the grass. and all will feel well, for now.
5’6 and she’s filled with love for me. she’s beautiful and she loves me. I love her, everything about her, and there’s nothing else that I want to say about it. because its not every day you love somebody this much.
today is our dad’s birthday. and today is our anniversary. and today means His promise to work all things together for good because He loves us. today is for reflecting on three years with a God who has held our marriage, has kept us when we would have left on our own and has sprinkled joy in the most unexpected places.
today is for remembering that when God gave life to Steve on this day 53 years ago,
He knew exactly what He was doing.
we are now one because of life.
and above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. and let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. and be thankful.
Oh, it is sweet to be able to say, “My Lord, if for other reasons I need not suffer, yet if I can honor thee more by suffering, and if the loss of my earthly all will bring thee glory, then so let it be. I refuse the comfort, if it comes in the way of thine honor.” O that we thus walked more in the footsteps of our Lord, cheerfully enduring trial for his sake, promptly and willingly putting away the thought of self and comfort when it would interfere with our finishing the work which he has given us to do. Great grace is needed, but great grace is provided.
