Today marks the start of my husband’s busy travel season. We’ve been anticipated this for quite some time and I’ve been sort of a pill about it in retrospect. Those feelings of doubt start to creep in and before you know it you’re totally overwhelmed.
“It’s a lot…It’s too much…You’re too young…You don’t have the support system…You pushed away all your friends already.” -My brain
We had a busy day. All of our days our busy but lately Tuesdays require special gumption and fortitude. Back to back to back appointments and taxi driving and emotional highs and lows. We got home and I tried to put the girls to bed while the rest watched a show.
There was a lot of dawdling.
I was tired.
So I put the little in her crib and told her sister to tell me when she wanted a kiss, turned off the lights, and left.
Which was pretty much the worst possible thing I could’ve done in her eyes.
I knew I needed a minute so I took out the trash and fed the chickens and put jammies on the baby.
Then I stopped to pray.
Which is funny, because I never actually pray. Like ever. And I fully believe in all the goodness of the Bible and Scripture. It’s been a long journey and my bible study on James finished up last night with a bang. It was on prayer. And what prayer should look like. What prayer CAN look like. I left my friends knowing that I simply wanted the desire to pray more. Not any routine or structure or program.
So, after all of that, with those conversations fresh in my mind, I prayed.
“We do not know what to do but our eyes are on you.” -2 Chronicles 20:12
I went back in, asked her to put her jammies on (one more time) and asked for a hug- not sure if she would be willing to at all. It was a gamble and I knew it. But, she said yes, a little confused as to what happened, to my relief.
And so there we sat. Foreheads together. Not sure where to go next.
“I’m sorry you miss your mama. I’m so sad about it. You know you can kick and scream and punch and throw the biggest fit known to mankind and I will still love you. You know that right? I’m so glad you are here. I know you would rather be with Mom. What do you like about her? What do you miss?”
We talked a bit about all the things she misses and what our schedule was for tomorrow. I tucked her in and said goodnight.
“I love you. Goodnight girls”
“Occasionally, weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face. Trust God. And embrace the life you have.” -John Piper
I can’t promise these girls a thing. I have no idea what the next few months will look like. None of us do. But it’s a lot easier for my heart to be broken than theirs. And as much as I look at these girls and know so deep down that I may not be forever Mom, they can still be deeply loved with recklessness. They deserve to be loved that way. I am called to love them that way. So, as I fumble through, as I do my best to parent solo more days than not these next few months, I know that his power is made perfect in my weakness.
And, really, isn’t that enough?