Restlessness accompanies the hopelessness that’s desperately trying to creep in & settle in my soul.
I was up until half past midnight doing homework…
To catch up from the day of crying I did that kept me from being able to focus.
I was up until much later than that writing, trying to process the chaos surrounding us right now.
I was up very early, awake to Joshua Radin singing Vegetable Car from the alarm on our bedside.
(Very early, because we usually ignore the first few albums playing, if we remember to set the alarm.)
I was up with my head on his chest, staring at the wall in silence because I just didn’t have words.
Then, he was up, playing with my hair like he does, rubbing my back, whispering his love for me.
The comfort he gives me disrupts the silence I try to hold onto because it’s better than weeping.
I couldn’t keep up that wall when he was doing what he does, so well, to tear it down.
Crying that leaves me coughing because I get all out of breath.
Crying that soaks my pillow and his shirt.
Crying that soaks my long & unmanageable hair, which then mixes with occasional drops of snot and mats itself to my cheeks & forehead. So much for crying less than normal.
What a mess!
And then, here’s my husband telling me how much I’m loved, how beautiful I am to him.
Here he is challenging me to surrender it all to Jesus.
Here he is, wiping away tears that he didn’t cause, brokenness that he can’t fix.
It’s best that I not get into all the drama & chaos that’s surrounding us at the moment.
What I can tell you is this: John & I are great. I’m so blessed to have him.
Baby Roque seems to be doing well, kicking & squirming often.
We have another appointment in just a few days.
Our little family will be okay, & maybe even much stronger once we’re on the other side of it all.
If you’re the praying kind, please pray for us.
If you’re not, feel free to drop by some cookies. Or ice cream.
(Not that cookies or ice cream are the equivalent of prayer. Just that they’re comforting, really.)