A personal thread.
The tears fell before 8 AM this morning. Caught me by surprise because I’d just finished morning devotions and told Jesus how happy I felt after getting to teach a group of women online last night. I could only see one face but I served her with all my might.
The tears fell before 8 AM this morning. Caught me by surprise because I’d just finished morning devotions and told Jesus how happy I felt after getting to teach a group of women online last night. I could only see one face but I served her with all my might.
The tears come out of nowhere and when they come, there’s no stopping them until whatever bottle is behind them runs empty. I’m uncomfortable with them. I’m a disciplined person. Pretty self controlled. Lead a ministry. It happened during a staff meeting on Tuesday. Embarrassing.
It’s grief. Saying goodbye to one of the most - no, no, no - to THE Most precious season of our family life thus far. Oh, yes, there will be others. Even the 1 right ahead will be so rich. I don’t begrudge the new season. But I can’t get to my happy hello til I deal with goodbye.
Our sweet loves have all moved away now. Many hours away. We’ll have so much fun going to see them. Trips already calendared for Portland in Sept & Springfield MO in Oct. Big Pops, the star of our family, started all this mess by dying. We were 4 generations. Loud. And hilarious.
The most recent move is our 5 Joneses. Keith & I are behind them all the way. Almost literally. Convinced it is a God-appointed, perfectly timed relocation. We also know that our baby girl, Melissa, is right where she needs to be. All is as it should be. But dear Jesus, the pain.
Thank you for hanging in here because, if I weren’t heading toward a thing I hope could mean something to someone, I wouldn’t burden you. Melissa & I and then later Amanda & I laughed on the phone last night because I’ve had the most gracious offers to babysit people’s children.
“I can drop my 3 off.”
“Does it matter if one’s still in diapers?”
“I have a few kids you could have for a while. I could run back by & pick them up in, let’s see. October work for you?”
So funny. Some offers were more serious. “We’d jump in that open space.” Means so much. But
“Does it matter if one’s still in diapers?”
“I have a few kids you could have for a while. I could run back by & pick them up in, let’s see. October work for you?”
So funny. Some offers were more serious. “We’d jump in that open space.” Means so much. But
here’s what I’m getting at. There is no one who can really, at the end of the day, replace another. I had to tell Keith this a few days ago. He keeps following me into rooms in our house to see if I’m ok (& I am). I’m the rock in the family so he is not accustomed to this. “Baby,
I said to him, “you’re doing a great job of tending to me but I want you to know you can’t fill 6 spots. You just keep filling yours.” He said, “I know”& the tears streamed down his face. I think perhaps this element, this inability for 1 person, as wonderful as he or she may be,
to replace another tells us something about our Creator in whose image we are made. We can’t comprehend how Jesus could know us each intimately and how we could fill a spot in his heart that no one else could & no other can replace but I believe it’s true. And I believe, when
we are distant from him, he feels it. This is where my parallel breaks down. My kids aren’t remotely living as prodigals. But this element of particularity is precisely why the older brother, as faithful as he was, as dear to his father, couldn’t replace his awful little brother.
It’s been 4 weeks since I’ve seen the speck of brown in one of Jackson’s blue eyes, since I’ve had a tea party with Wilsy & since, well, I’m not even going to talk to you about my namesake. It’s been 18 months since my girls & I last sat on the back porch & laughed till we cried.
And that’s ok. We’re gonna make it. We’ve already got the best plans for Christmas. I welcome this season with my whole aching heart. “Come right on, future! Let’s do this!” But there will be more tears. Because I love these people. These are my darlings. And I miss them.
No one’s taken your place. You wonder if Jesus even noticed you’ve been gone. You think you’re obviously not special to him like some others. You think he hasn’t noticed you’re mad. You think he doesn’t care enough to notice. After all, in your estimation, it was He who left you.
But none of those things are true. No one’s taken your place. Go home, loved of Christ. Take your heart with you. You have a wonderful season ahead. No, it won’t be like the season you may have wanted to last forever. But it’s GOOD. And it leads somewhere perfect.
The end.
The end.
