The missing and the miracles

It's Spring!

And in Minnesota it might not look like it -- with the feet of snow still covering the frozen ground -- or feel like it -- with the bitter cold wind blowing straight across the fields, but it smells like it. And I breath deep. Smell of melting…somewhere… and a change. New beginnings. New adventures. New seasons. New chapters. New.

I have been counting down the days. And sometimes the hours. Seconds tick and tell of both each moment spend away from our precious little one and each moment closer to holding her again. I miss her so. I miss her smile, her little hands, her laugh. Her curiosity. I miss all of her. This is the cruelest form of torture and I am just praying my way through. 

I think the unimaginable, that all we will ever have is those last hours together. Will she ever know we loved her so, and still? Would she ever know we chose her, wanted her, treasured her?  I think of the next visit and how on earth can we make that happen -- gas, hotels, food...I know it's only money, but it's difficult too not be overwhelmed by the numbers. I think of these things and fall to my knees. The waiting, wondering, the weight and worrying is too much. Never before have I been so twisted and tangled inside. Aching and excited, at once, through and through. I find Lamaze breathing surprisingly, and not so surprisingly, helpful in this season. I have made my anxious fingers useful by knitting gifts and finishing projects. Still, there is no busy work for the mind so perfect as worry and longing. But there is ice cream. And no lie, it does help sooth the soul.

This morning I breath deep the smell of spring and turn my face towards the bright sun, in thankfulness, praise, gratitude, and in awe. We have been blessed. This I know. And I have been humbled to my knees again and again this week. Speechless but for unintelligible whimpers of thanks. I don't even know how to begin telling you.

He is faithful. The Lord is good. And in what could have been the most trying week He has brought gifts to our door. The timing is not lost on us. Each a gentle and swift puff of air to keep us floating, moving, living, breathing. More than enough for a lifetime, really. And we receive them in a week. And I just can't believe…

. : the miracles : .

I pulled into the drive and filled my arms with the full load of groceries. Arms tired and mind spent having speed-shopped at Walmart in the afternoon. Pure nuthouse. I sigh and drag the bags through the door. Shoes off. Coat hung. And notice the mail in the slot. Bill. Bill. Junk. Card…CARD?!

Keys on the desk and I open the envelope. From a friend whom I haven't seen in years. A forever friend through miles and months even without words. A kindred spirit all the way. A wonderful note -- just this alone would have been enough to carry me for weeks. And then…a check. Unexpected and unexpectedly large enough to make me scream and I did and immediately dropped to my knees. Sobbed with ice cream melting in the mudroom. Sobbed and raised my hands. "I don't even…I don't…

deserve
understand
believe it
know how You could be so good to us

And to use our friends, strangers, loved ones to do Your work. I can scarcely believe grace like this is real. And I feel it and fall to my knees every time.

The good man comes home and I show him. Tough, wild, bearded, strong man as he is, he too is humbled beyond words and tears are shed.
 .   .   .

Again, I am hauling a load from the car -- boats and bags from a weekend spent in the north woods. Reaching the door with arms drooping heavy. A package. PACKAGE?! I scoop it up in delight.

I had known about this coming in the mail but what magical things spilled out upon opening, I knew of not. A forever friend who had cheered and supported, and cried and mourned with us all the way. Who laughed harder than anyone over stories of our many misadventures. A card with a note and again, this alone would have carried me for weeks. A perfect necklace, a hair pin, bows for our little girl, a coffee gift card for the road, and CHOCOLATE. The good man watched as I opened each small and cherished gift, and the tears came fresh every time. I shook my head over and over. Bewildered. "I…how…"

come?
loved
wonderful
perfect
did she know?

After all is unwrapped and set out with care, the good man and I stare... and look at each other. This is unreal. UNreal. How loved and encouraged and comforted. It was enough to last a lifetime, right there in that moment. Not that someone sent gifts, things. But that each spoke right into the core of everything we are doing, to the very soul of this journey. And our good God used someone we love to deliver it. Completely Him. Completely her.

.   .   .

The phone rang and I ran to grab it. Dish soap suds all over my hands. I picked up with my pinkie and laid my head on the counter to listen while I wiped my hands dry. It was the good man and he was almost whispering. "I have something to tell you." Okay? What? "A woman I work with…she is taking care of the hotel." Wait…what?! "She is paying for your hotel stay."

I was undone. Hot tears, throat closed up, hands shaking. Humbled to the floor yet again.  I hung my arms palms up and limp, astonished and dumbfounded.  Stunned. Speechless. And each time I attempted to speak out thanks I choked back tears and had to give up. He knew my heart and my groanings.

The Father working through loving, encouraging friends, practical strangers, is almost too much to bear. I feel surrounded. Carried. Truly, undeniably we are blessed. And I can't find words. I can't believe it. I cannot understand but simply pour out my gratitude in tears and shake my head. "The love of the Lord never ceases…He will do immeasurably more than you can ask or imagine" (Lamentations  3:22; Ephesians 3:20 ) I am overwhelmed and face heavenward and breath deep of this undeserved gift -- friendship, love, comfort. Grace showered in a down pour.

O God, you are good. And You are carrying us. If there ever was a doubt, it has been washed out.

The garage sales. The fundraisers. The donations mailed from states away and online. The gifts given and prayers sent up. The support and love of friends, family, strangers in the form of donations, checks, pennies, and kind words. It is almost too much. Be still my beating battered heart, you are being made whole.

All this, all this and more, speaks His words. Whispers in the breeze, echoes shaking mountains, resounding across the plains -- You are not alone. I will carry you.

I hear it now. And I know I will hear it on road. And my soul finds comfort knowing I will hear it again on the long road back without her.

I have spend more time on my knees this week than ever before. My jeans are wearing thin. And I will tell you right now it is far better to kneel in gratitude and joy, humbleness and surrender than in worry and fret any day. Any day. The very act of bowing low, joints bending does not seem so heavy when it's done. 

I can't help but think that really, really there is nothing that will stop Him from bringing her home to us. And I am in awe. Grateful He is bigger than the mountains that surround, the valleys that sink. And money is nothing to Him. 


And if not, He is still good.