I Hurt

When the phone rings at 5:00am on a Saturday morning, your foggy mind can comprehend enough to know that the news on the other line is probably not going to be good.  It wasn't.
 
Two weeks ago, my mom's side of the family gathered togteher to celebrate the wedding of my cousin, Zachary.  Today we will gather yet again - this time to celebrate the life, and mourn the passing, of another cousin, Jody.  She was young and she leaves behind 2 small daughters.  She was loud and full of laughter and spunk and stories and fun and every time I close my eyes, her beautiful round face is there with the deepest dimples I have ever seen and I just can't imagine never seeing that smile again.  

I feel like this week has beat me up.  First the news about Jody last Saturday, then this past week has also marked the 10 year anniversary of my miscarriage.  10 years.  A whole decade.  Tuesday was my marking of the day we went in for the ultrasound and found out there was no heartbeat.  Thursday was the day marking the D&C because, although the baby had alreay started breaking up and being absorbed back into my body, my body hadn't yet realized it wasn't pregnant and wasn't shedding anything.  We were leaving for a conference in California less than a week later and I didn't want to be in a hotel room on the other side of the country from my doctor not knowing what was normal and what wasn't.

I have had to experience some emotional rollercoaster moments this week.

Tim and I have had to try to answer questions from kids that, as they get older, want to know more in depth.  The question, "Why are you crying, Mom?" doesn't have a simple answer for a 6 year old and 9 year old.  It turns into, "Why are you sad?" and then "How did she die?" and then, "What do you mean by bad choice?" and finally into "What are drugs?"  We want to be honest with our kids in an age appropriate way.  There are too many lies and cover ups in our culture nowadays and we just want our kids to know truth about situations so they can trust The Truth in life.  We want them to know that good people can still make bad choices sometimes and we're all sinners on this earth.
  
Deaths seem to bring up many memories.  Jody's death makes me think of our grandpa (my mom's dad), who we lost to cancer just over 13 years ago.  My miscarriage makes me think of my grandma (my dad's mom), who died 10 years ago last month, just a couple weeks before my miscarriage.  I love holding on to the thought she was there to hold my baby in heaven.  If you're a theology student and you want to quote me something that would explain why that might not be true, please just hold your tongue this time and let me treasure my picture.  It's helped me through some rough moments.  I loved both my grandparents dearly and this year, I really really really miss them.

I took Caleb in for testing with a speech pathologist.  She had some great things to say about him - he's smart, she would never realize he is on the Autism Spectrum.  Then there is also the fact that she didn't even have to tally up the final score to tell me he would almost definitely qualify for their program because she could already point out at least 3 speech issues he has.  So we add in yet another  thing to his life.  I do feel good about this, don't get me wrong.  He already can't wait to start attending the once a week therapy (He thinks the pathologist is really nice and liked that there were fun things to do in the room...like Do-A-Dot markers.  He LOVES those things!)  It's a good thing for him, but it is one more thing to think about.

I am planning an event on Tuesday night that I am 120% excited about and yet I feel completely unprepared for.  I am thankful for the friend planning it with me since one of us can think straight right now.  I am just very excited to get together with other women and pray.  Because good night, I think our communities need it like crazy.

Life happens every day.  I feel like I've made it through this week pretty well because I have four kids to take care of.  I can't curl up in a ball and shun my responsibilities because people would be hungry, a toddler would be walking around in a dirty diaper, and the place would be trashed.  I have to hold on to hope that the Lord holds me in His hand and I will admit: it is only by His strength that I have made it through this week.

Friends, I can tell you what I know.  I can tell you that I have hope for a future.  I can tell you that the Lord is my strength.  I know that He is my rock, my fortress, my deliverer.  I know that I can give Him my burdens and He will give me rest.

But can I tell you something else?

I am just plain worn this week.
Tired.
Weary.
Sad.
Exhausted.

I don't want Scripture quoted at me as much as I just want to crawl into His arms and take a little nap.   I just want to spend some time by the water, in His presence, in quiet.  I want to see wave after wave lap up and fill my soul with the knowledge that He loves me.  He sees my hurt.  He wipes my tears.  He whispers that He has it under control, even though I can't tell what's going on, but that it's going to be ok because, remember?  I do know the final outcome of all this chaos even if I don't know what the day holds.

Then I want to be with my family.  I want to laugh with friends.  I want to breathe in life.

But today....today I hurt