Sadness, for now

When my sis and crew left yesterday afternoon, David had to get straight to work. All I wanted to do was sit inside, close the curtains, put a video on for Sophia, let our helper watch Bella, so that I could escape and cry and sulk.

But I didn't. I prayed for help, and I did the opposite. I let our helper take the afternoon off, Sophia and I fed Isabella rice cereal (to be blogged about more later), gave her a bath, cleaned up a little, and then headed outside to play. Bella in the stroller, Sophia on her car, we enjoyed our campus, and had a great afternoon. I kept tearing up, but I kept smiling too, it was perfect refreshment.

I will post about their time with us later, but here is what I wrote in reflection upon their trip and the complete sadness I felt at their leaving:

I spent most of the day in tears. And I am not the crying sort. David and I didn't get to bed until one a.m. last night, so full of blessing from what has been an incredible two weeks. And as we started to debrief like we do every night, I just cried, sobbed really…reality of loss coming again. Such sweet sweet times and such hard goodbyes.

Being with my sis, her hubby, her youngest, my best friend, and new friends have challenged me in so many ways…as a parent, a wife, one trying to live out truth….I will be different from their coming and going in our lives these two weeks, and isn't that an ordained blessing? that is how the body is supposed to work...

I realized how much I really do need community. I really do need closeness with people, people I trust to bear my burdens and call me out…and that takes time to cultivate, and proximity. And during these two weeks sometimes it was just the proximity that made all the difference in my joy. There was Julie in my kitchen getting a bottle ready, there she was making a gingerbread house with Sophia, there she was just to chat about anything and everything, and there was Heather drinking her tea, there she was genuinely snorting laughing at my attempts at humor…and it all just felt so right. And when they go, it feels so wrong…this life of goodbyes that we live.

In general I have become a lot more contemplative on life and the affects my decisions or family decisions have on our children. Was I so naïve to think it would be easier than this? The short answer: yes, I was naïve.

I am so encouraged by connecting in meaningful ways with my family and friends, but I am so hurt now too. I am reminded of what I am missing, and it gets harder and harder. When Julie goes into Sophia's room to squeeze her as long as she will allow, and the tears don't stop flowing, I have to walk away, my heart can't handle it. I can't stand to see my sis hurting, and the pain is raw and real for me too.

Tomorrow things will be okay, but real grieving took place for me today. Sophia didn't quite no what to make of me. She sometimes pretends she is playing with people that she knows. So she would say: 'Hosea, let me hold you, oh, let me hold you' and I my tears would fall. Or she would say: 'I want them to come back to our house' or 'where is Hosea?' 'oh, we won't see them for a while?' And then the obvious question: 'mommy, why are you sad? Why are you crying?' I would just hug her and explain, and she doesn't understand…not yet. but she will one day. And that will be hard too. But grace is present and real for us now, and it will be then as well. So we trust in this mercy and grace that gives such sweet and precious gifts as community, as body, as family, as friends, as sacrifice, as love. Love lived out. Joy. Pain... but Joy, utter Joy, and we must be thankful for it ALL.