"In every victory, let it be said of me, my source of strength, my source of hope, is Christ the Lord."
T-minus 10 days, and we depart for the soil where our family is physically united for the first time. 10 days. It's 9pm. Almost 9 days. Whhhhhy, is the bottom of my heart giving out now??? It was one of those Mondays at school. I just couldn't get in grace-mode. I found myself snapping and wishing I hadn't. I kept trying to evaluate my heart, asking, What is going on in there? I was looking forward to fellowship in housegroup later this evening, and made multiple attempts to move my outlook forward. Finally, when the day ended, I realized, I just felt sad. Something about knowing that I REALLY WILL get HOLD my boys, IN MY ARMS, in 10 days, has brought our life-situation to a new level of tangible. And all I can feel is how far away they are. And it feels like I might die.
My plan was to get groceries on the way home and make dinner before housegroup. But the task seemed so miserable. I am not a Walmart hater, but I decided to go elsewhere since my mood was already so foul. I headed for Target, but I wasn't ready to go there either. I pulled into the Pier1 parking lot. Let me tell ya... Cary and I are just 3 years in to building a life together. We've never been shopper/spenders. BUT, for the past 8 months, we stopped spending completely. It's been that long since I set foot into a store like Pier1, and I decided today was the day. The delicate balance of rustic and glitter holiday decor was kind of breathtaking, but mostly it felt good to float around in quiet seclusion so I could think. I kept thinking of the possible calamities I'm capable of... Forgetting a passport. Getting sick enough to get thrown off a plane. Oversleeping. And the detriment that those things would mean for our family which would then not be united in 10 days. Oi.
I got to the back of the store where there are some inexpensive photo frames that only poor college students like former-me buy since they can't afford anything else in the store. I knelt down into the familiarity of those days when I was single, had no idea where life was headed, just enjoying simple combinations of hand-painted wood and knock-off mosaics I could afford. How much my heart has swelled since then. I noticed these two little birds - one green, one blue - the shades we've chosen for the boys' room. They had spiral wire picture holders above them. Huh. For some reason, I loved them. I was reminded of the verse referenced in the song I've been skipping every day on the cd I'm listening to. "His eye is on the sparrow..." I didn't want to hear it in the cliche sense, but I did feel that these little birdy treasures in my boys' colors were just for me to find. I picked them up and carried them around until I'd had enough quiet sorting time.
After regrouping, getting groceries and getting over the fact that I didn't get it all done in time for housegroup, it was dark and I drove home in the rain. Just before I pulled into the driveway, I tuned back into the song that had come on the radio - an oldie. This line popped out:
"In every victory, let it be said of me, my source of strength, my source of hope, is Christ the Lord."
As I carried groceries inside, the truth of this statement sank in. I can't help asking how I will get through the next 9 days, but I have heard an answer. The Lord will be my source. Supposing 10 days from now all is well and we're stepping on that joyous plane (having not overslept, or forgotten something crucial, or gotten kicked off our flight, or just melted away...) I can say with certainty that it's a victory, and my source is Christ, the Lord.
T-minus 10 days, and we depart for the soil where our family is physically united for the first time. 10 days. It's 9pm. Almost 9 days. Whhhhhy, is the bottom of my heart giving out now??? It was one of those Mondays at school. I just couldn't get in grace-mode. I found myself snapping and wishing I hadn't. I kept trying to evaluate my heart, asking, What is going on in there? I was looking forward to fellowship in housegroup later this evening, and made multiple attempts to move my outlook forward. Finally, when the day ended, I realized, I just felt sad. Something about knowing that I REALLY WILL get HOLD my boys, IN MY ARMS, in 10 days, has brought our life-situation to a new level of tangible. And all I can feel is how far away they are. And it feels like I might die.
My plan was to get groceries on the way home and make dinner before housegroup. But the task seemed so miserable. I am not a Walmart hater, but I decided to go elsewhere since my mood was already so foul. I headed for Target, but I wasn't ready to go there either. I pulled into the Pier1 parking lot. Let me tell ya... Cary and I are just 3 years in to building a life together. We've never been shopper/spenders. BUT, for the past 8 months, we stopped spending completely. It's been that long since I set foot into a store like Pier1, and I decided today was the day. The delicate balance of rustic and glitter holiday decor was kind of breathtaking, but mostly it felt good to float around in quiet seclusion so I could think. I kept thinking of the possible calamities I'm capable of... Forgetting a passport. Getting sick enough to get thrown off a plane. Oversleeping. And the detriment that those things would mean for our family which would then not be united in 10 days. Oi.
I got to the back of the store where there are some inexpensive photo frames that only poor college students like former-me buy since they can't afford anything else in the store. I knelt down into the familiarity of those days when I was single, had no idea where life was headed, just enjoying simple combinations of hand-painted wood and knock-off mosaics I could afford. How much my heart has swelled since then. I noticed these two little birds - one green, one blue - the shades we've chosen for the boys' room. They had spiral wire picture holders above them. Huh. For some reason, I loved them. I was reminded of the verse referenced in the song I've been skipping every day on the cd I'm listening to. "His eye is on the sparrow..." I didn't want to hear it in the cliche sense, but I did feel that these little birdy treasures in my boys' colors were just for me to find. I picked them up and carried them around until I'd had enough quiet sorting time.
After regrouping, getting groceries and getting over the fact that I didn't get it all done in time for housegroup, it was dark and I drove home in the rain. Just before I pulled into the driveway, I tuned back into the song that had come on the radio - an oldie. This line popped out:
"In every victory, let it be said of me, my source of strength, my source of hope, is Christ the Lord."
As I carried groceries inside, the truth of this statement sank in. I can't help asking how I will get through the next 9 days, but I have heard an answer. The Lord will be my source. Supposing 10 days from now all is well and we're stepping on that joyous plane (having not overslept, or forgotten something crucial, or gotten kicked off our flight, or just melted away...) I can say with certainty that it's a victory, and my source is Christ, the Lord.
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