Arriving

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We will be arriving for a while. Arriving is a constant.

…and so is leaving.

I glance east and I see it – the place where I became wife, where I became army wife, where I became mother, where I became special needs mother, survivor. I see the friends that brought casseroles to the ICU, that sang to my boy, that washed dishes, that gave bear hugs, that made tea. I see the parents that came and did any and all they could to patch the pieces and just love us, and survive their own grief in the process.

The days of envying the solider-husband across the world getting shot at, I see those too. I envied him because he got sleep. …and because he wasn’t at the forefront of the high stakes game of jenga that kernicterus is. He wasn’t up holding the babe that couldn’t stop jerking his body, or catching palmfuls of blood tinged spit up. (Our boy could never rest for more than 2 hours at a time.) Yes, my husband was sleeping under a truck some nights, but he was sleeping.  I know now that my thoughts were riddled with lies, and that if I had been in my husbands shoes I would have longed to be home too, but at that time, in that sleep deprived state, I wrestled hard with these thoughts.

There were tearful reunions.  The hard work of rummaging through the garbage, it happened there. Truly, that chapter is a story to itself.  Praise God our boy can sleep better now!!!

And now we start a new chapter, but oh how the pages are sticky.

On this new soil, there is anxiety about the new house, the iPhone I had repaired weeks ago is cracked now, we left some critical feeding pump supplies in with the stuff that will arrive in 1 week, and insurance is a bear, and I haven’t slept for 3 nights, and while the stitches are out, the muscle beneath feels defective…and it’s tiny and it’s not the worst pain at all but it gets me most when I’m caring for my boy…and it’s a crack with way too much force behind it.

And what do you do when your mega move feels mega?

You look for the weeds.

You find the lies choking out life. Satan want’s me to think that this is all wrong. That I shouldn’t have these trials, that I deserve better. But when I uproot the lie, I hear the rhythm of the truth. Jesus asks me to love the people right in front of me, right here and right now.  There is purpose here.  There is beauty here.  There is joy here. In the slowing, there is unspeakable beauty – right here. right now.

*Even since writing this, a friend was able to get me the exact formula we needed and others were standing by to help.  I also got a night’s sleep with just one interruption, and am feeling much more rested.  Isn’t this place gorgeous!?!?!

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