These past couple weeks have been a rough season for us, and I don't think we are walking out of the valley yet. I am pretty upfront and honest about that with friends and family. Most of the time I can move past the venting and bitching and get to the deep down crap that I really am petrified to admit. I just hate going there.
What if we can't provide for our children.
What if my marriage isn't as strong as I thought it was.
What if my friends will judge me when I pull up with my crappy two door car to take my baby home in from the hospital.
What if our friends won't visit us once we have a baby.
What if I am really all alone.
Deep dark place, I know. But if I admit it...those are my fears as I am arguing with my husband about buying a pair of jeans, or as I am sitting on my basement stairs sobbing watching the water pour in through the window well. Do I want to live in a pretty pottery barn house, kinda, but I know that I am a sucker for consumerism and really what I want is to know that I'm O.K, that we are O.K. That my marriage is going to be O.K. And that this baby isn't going to be screwed with us as parents. And deeper than all of that I want to know that God is still here and that this is still the plan. That my life has a purpose and a direction. If I was able to catch my breath, the basement was pretty funny. We bought this house knowing it had "seepage." Maybe I should have looked up the definition of the word. My bad. I didn't think it meant streams, but whatever.
As crappy as I feel while I oscillate between tears and awkward laugh, I also feel this place of peace. Just in the last couple hours, up until then. No peace. None, nada, zip. Just despair and bitching. So please forgive me friends if you were on any of the receiving ends of that. Forgive me if I wasn't able to admit my deeper truths to you and ask you to just hug me as I cry my eyes out. It's just so hard to admit sometimes.
Today I found peace that I am not alone. As I hear my friend all shook up on the other end of the phone because she was just in a car accident. Or as I talk to other friends about how hard marriage can be, and sometimes no matter how hard you try, you still feel wrecked at the end of the day. Or as I sat here and cried reading sweet Connor's blog and his experience with the bone marrow transplant. There seems to be this common thread that sometimes you forget in the comfort and day to day busyness. A thread so thin it's hard to notice unless you pay attention. And I will admit right now, it is hard to get my attention. I am head strong and stead fast, and my ability to slow down, sucks.
But it's there. Like spider web silk. All shiny and glittery (because everyone knows by now how much I like shine and glitter). We are all connected together by this thin thread. By our deep heart ache and our deep joy. By our fear as parents, and our hope for our children and this world. By our love for our friends and family, and what lights our hearts on fire when we hear of injustices of this world. By the fist that grabs our hearts and brings tears to our eyes when we hear about people taking on and conquering those injustices. By our regrets and our ambitions. By our humanity. There really is a God orchestrating what seems to be this hot mess, and when I am finally broken enough to see it, it's really beautiful. Hard, sad, scary, deep, full, rich, and beautiful.
So today I might end up crying some more, but I will cling to this thread. I will again gain some perspective as I hold a sweet baby that knows nothing but love, and as I pray over the one in my belly. I will revel in the time I get with friends from far away, and I will let go. I will feel the fear and then I will let it go. I'm sure it will come back, but it doesn't have to own me. Because I am not alone. God is still here, He is still good, and ultimately, I am OK. Thanks for holding onto the other end of the thread.
Jon and I saw this on a street corner in the city one night. I like it.
I attached Connor's blog on my side bar. Please feel free to go show him some love and send Steph and Steve some encouragement.