Last night, I was on the last lines of one of the most candid posts I’d written in a very long time when my internet does what it always does and crashes without WordPress doing what it always does – saving my draft.
***** cue a flood of literal tears ****
I had a rough night and that post was what I needed.
A post I wish I could have kept for myself, even if I couldn’t have shared it.
One that described the random, untimely emotions that hit me perfectly. One I could never duplicate. One that spoke of drawing lines in the sand, struggling to decide whether balloons should be let go or kept around until they could no longer drift throughout the house…. one that captured moments of the infertility stories of a random husband-father at Jury Duty, an old high school teacher, a family we met on vacation…. stories of random people I would never talk to because no matter how much I talk or randomly burst into song on a regular basis, I am an introvert to my soul who doesn’t talk to people I don’t know. (I’ve tried… it’s just an awkward mess. lol)
Writing that post made me realize that so many of these “coincidences” were really an introduction to an incredibly difficult life that I never in a million years thought I’d experience first hand. The number of friends who’ve been placed in my life across spans of time have gone through or are going through the same thing as I am is too much to wrap my head around. But, who are in my life for the greatest reasons – to be supportive and understanding. To share, to encourage, to love on, and cry with.
It was that post that made me realize that no matter how far away God’s love feels, no matter how unfair and unpredictable His plan may seem at the time… nothing surprises Him and it’s all for our good. He orchestrates so many wonderful things in your life to help you get through hard times even if His will doesn’t call for getting you out of them.
A post that is probably better lost in cyberspace…..
A post that I’ve tried with fervor to avoid writing for about a week…
A post that made me deal with where I was….
Unsure. Sad. Always sad but more like heartbroken.
And, struggling with what to do, when.
One that probably shared too much.
Over the past couple of months or so I’ve been asked lots of questions, had many conversations, and heard lots of encouragement about where I am. For quite some time, I’ve been able to speak on and deflect lots with ease, without a second thought.
I was given a book that has made it’s little home on my nightstand… I’ve truly been too busy to read it but I also can’t even bring myself to read the summary on the back cover. A book I fully intend to read and one I know I need to make time for but I just can’t bring myself to do it…..
One of my favorite, favorite teenagers told me, “Life’s hard… ”
And, heavens, is it.
You become a pro at shutting of tears at a moment’s notice because you’ve reached your destination and it’s time to smile…… at turning away because you just can’t hold it in any longer…. you get used to falling alseep with a stuffy nose and a wet pillow case, waking up with a headache…. the pain never goes away, the mourning of all of these dreams and ideas is never ending, and the pain relentless.
But, what do you do? How do you decide that enough is enough? Or, that this is the “last procedure” or that you shouldn’t take this herb or drink this tea?? Get this massage, endure another surgery, take this pill and this injection? Do this test, take these vitamins??
This path is full of steep ups and downs. One that can only offer a promise of nothing more than the knowledge that you gave your best shot at an attempt…
This life is full of random good days and bad that you come to expect…. the two steps forward and one step back dance through the stages of grief that make you feel emotionally unstable.
This life pushes you closer to whatever God you serve or whatever keeps you grounded and sane because you know you need something. An intangible something that gives you a hope because there’s just about nothing that can comfort you.
….. here’s to just enduring.