Wednesday, March 14, 2012


The world decided to wake in full today.  Splendorous sunshine.  The coo of two doves in harmony.  Little green things rising from the dead.  Dan and the girls are out to play in the beauty and celebrate healthy bodies, a safe and peaceful neighborhood and victories of many sorts, and I am in bed.  Heart racing.  Head throbbing.  Face burning.  Sometimes no amount of truth seems to ease the ache of being so afraid and so alone.  I gave everything to be able to watch Danica finally be okay and our family finally just LIVE.  I am left here in this tomb of a room.  The stench of self pity, the worst sickness of all, hangs in the stale air.   

Hot tears burn as I watch this video "starring" a long admired word artist from Lindsey Letters.  

This afternoon I sat at the table and worked through Christ's life in twelve chronological "Resurrection Eggs" for a ministry project Delaney's class is doing.  As the pressure built to a crescendo in my brain and my skull was literally buzzing I went from passage to passage reading almost mindlessly the very truth that would save me.  A child born of a virgin.  A carpenter's son who was also the Son of God.  Loaves and fishes multiplied by Him.  A parable about how the birds and flowers are fed and clothed so why should we worry?  Winds and waves obey Him.  A story about a man on a journey to find a pearl of great price.  A baptism, a dove and the Spirit.  A supper we still celebrate.  His body broken.  We eat.  His blood shed.  We drink.  Arrested.  Beaten.  A crown of thorns for the King.  Crucified.  ALIVE.

My eye was twitching as I supervised this project rich with teaching moments, and I forgot the important part. 


I found myself getting irritated as we tried to finish up.  My head was throbbing and my throat was tight.  Delaney was distracted by the dog and Danica was wanting to add Strawberry Shortcake and Barbie items to the eggs.  I began raising my voice, but I couldn't really make the sound come out.  Strangely enough this is when my girls notice me.  When I'm still and can barely make a whisper they stop to hear me and see me. 

"Mom, what's wrong?"  Delaney stopped mid chaos.  I softly said, "I'm just wanting you to understand this egg carton tells a story from birth to death and Resurection, but Jesus, the Son, always was.  The Spirit always was.  God, the Father, always was.  They are the same today and will be forever.  Do you understand?"  She contemplated as we finished up the last few and looked up the passages that tell the stories for her to share with the eggs.  The project was packed up, and I cleaned up and moved in to my room to rest my head. 


Dan got home. The girls rallied around him excitedly, and they all ran off to play outdoors.  An ache filled me. 



He calls my name.  I am not alone.  I Know. 

1 comment:

  1. No words, sissy. Loving you. Missing you. Aching for you. All the wishing in the world won't bring me to be with you. I'm there in spirit.