Saturday, November 26, 2011

Last Monday

from Monday 11/19 - 

There's nothing like starting out your Monday morning by putting your son in a car with his grandparents while he is sobbing these enormous choking sobs and saying, "I want to be with you always, mom!" over and over.  You'd think I was selling him to slavery instead of sending him with his grandparents for an extra day of family fun.  I mean sheesh!

On some levels I can totally relate, though.  I suppose that's exactly how I sounded about Emt while he was sick.  I could make further parallels about wanting Quinn to grow in maturity and trust, blah blah blah, and try to sound really spiritual.  But really, for many reasons beyond Quinn's control, he just needed to go with his grandparents because I need to be somewhere else.  

As my heart broke with Quinn's this morning, I couldn't help but think of God's heart for me.  I have struggled lately with the longing to have Emt back, and for some reason that struggle is particularly evident in my dreams.  I woke up the other morning with a desire for Emt so strong it was overwhelming, and before I really woke up, I could feel the Spirit pressing a single question into my consciousness.  "Would you really trade my care of you for your own desires?”

And strangely enough, I could answer no, and really mean it.  Because the tenderness of the Lord is so palpable that I can nearly feel his arms around me.

As I type this, I’m sitting in the Nashville airport.  The last time I was here was with Emt, traveling back and forth from Houston.  I opted out in security and got the detested pat down and thought of Emmett. I passed by the restaurants where I would try to tempt him with food and thought of Emmett.  There were so many memories of that airport that I wasn’t expecting.  I remember exactly where we sat in the Starbucks in C terminal, the sandwiches we would get at Provence, the process of pre-boarding.  

Despite the memories, though, there is peace in the midst of uncertainty.  And hope.  Definitely hope.

Monday, November 14, 2011


This morning was the kind of morning where you step outside your door and just long for an adventure.  The weather was mild, and the sky was moving from overcast to sunny and back within the span of minutes.  As I took the dog for a short walk, I noticed the birds were as intoxicated as I felt, hurrying about and shrieking with a frenetic glee.  It was a sweet morning, the first in goodness only knows how long that I woke up with a light heart.

It made me think of the short story called, The Light Princess by George MacDonald.  It is a very charming story about a princess who feels no gravity, so she has to be carefully tethered down lest she float away when doing something as mundane as getting out of bed.  Light-heartedness has become so foreign that just contrasting it with my usual heaviness made me feel dangerously unstable.  It was nice for the weather to conspire with my mood, threatening to sweep me away without warning.

Just an image.  A feeling.  That is all, but for today, that was more than enough.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


October and November have always been hard months for me, even before Emt was sick.  Work is at its most demanding during these months, and my annual cold waits for the least convenient moment to knock me out for a couple weeks.

Images of grapes being crushed in the winepress or raspberries being pressed through a sieve linger in the back of my mind, I suppose because I feel a lot like the fruit right now.  So I'm waiting.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord,
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning. (Psalm 130: 5-6)

Tuesday, November 1, 2011


Last week Emt would have been 32 years old.  The day came and went with little fanfare, with the dreary weather complementing my mood.  The crisp fall air that has finally made its way to Nashville signals Emt's favorite time of year.  He relished fall, with its unpredictable chilliness and would have been invigorated by a freezing walk through the neighborhood to help Quinn trick-or-treat.  Emt always seemed to come alive in fall, and his playful mood would make you forget the cold.

I, on the other hand, find myself strangely mute these days.  After hanging out with some of Emt's college friends a few weeks ago, I thought, "gosh, I'm boring!"  Now don't get me wrong, I really enjoy being boring.  I've had plenty of drama, but as I read through Project E4:E5, a collection of notes to Quinn about his dad put together by a couple of amazing friends, I remembered how much laughter Emt brought to my life.  Although Quinn and I are pretty good at being silly together, I find that I rarely laugh, at least not with the kind of laughter Emt drew out of me.

So I've been praying for more laughter in my life.