The Post I Couldn’t Title
I blogged a giveaway … and then I was gone. Maybe you’ve noticed my absence here; or maybe you haven’t. If I could sum up the last two weeks in one word, that word would be HARD. If I’m being totally honest, I’d love to crawl into a hole and forget that the past two weeks even happened.
But they did happen. And I lived and my family lived, and we’re all fine and healthy and together. The sun continues to rise and the world spins, like nothing happened at all.
I had plans on the calendar — that didn’t happen. I had to-do’s on my list — that are left undone.
I can’t go into the details of what has happened in our little family. Those who know are the ones who need to know. And God knows, and He carries us still.
The truth is that my momma heart has never been so terrified. Because when there is even a mention that your children were or could have been in danger, something rises up from within that you never knew existed. It’s an overwhelming, guttural, primal instinct to protect like nothing you’ve ever known before and you pray like hell you never will again.
What I will say is that life can just rock along, until one day it doesn’t, and you never wake up the same again. Life goes on and God binds the wounds of the broken hearted, but there is always a scar. Even Jesus ascended to His Father bearing scars.
I am OK. My husband, my strong oak of a partner, is OK. And my precious children are OK.
The “what ifs” and the movie that played over and over in my head were, thank goodness, far, far worse than what actually happened to us. And as my children go back to their Legos and their 3:00 p.m. snacks and Wild Kratts on Netflix, this momma’s mind prays and hopes for the day when the “what ifs” are silent and the movie of what could have been stops playing.
Isn’t it amazing that it is possible for us to be more fearful of what could have been than what actually was?
For the unfinished posts that went live and shouldn’t have, I am sorry. For the promised posts that should have gone up a week ago, I am sorry.
While my family goes on with life as usual — and rightfully so — I am trying to rest and enjoy and just be. Before 14 days ago, finishing the research for half-written posts was in the top 5 of my things that have to get done this week list. Today, reading with my children, breathing deep, and finding the energy to make lunch are my Top 3.
Over the weekend, we did something I’ve wanted to do since we moved to East Texas: we picked wildflowers.
In the mess, God is ever faithful. That sweet girl up there? She found Jesus — her sunshine for the rest of forever. On her own, she invited Christ into her heart just before lunch last Wednesday morning. And once again, God uses the difficult and the frightening to draw us to Him.
I remind myself that it is a new season, change happens, and growth takes place. Without us planting seeds or watering or pulling weeds or pruning, growth still occurs. Somehow, each of those wildflowers sprouted from a seed that no one planted and tiny stems forced their way out of the dark and the depths and the dirt and they found the sunshine.
And so will I.