Today is Martin Luther King Day, which here in MN means the kids have a four day weekend. Friday was end of quarter/semester and teacher in-service day and everyone has today off. It is 10:30 am and I am still in bed.
I have been discovering over the past week or two that my hardest days are those when the boys can get up and fend for themselves while I can lie in bed and grieve. It’s probably a good thing that doesn’t come every day, but I’m glad to have a few days here and there to just let myself go. Today, I really do have lots of other things to get done, and yet here I am – in bed, just thinking, remembering, weeping.
For those of you that see me on a regular basis and think that I am some super strong woman – to have walked through Tim’s illness and be there for my kids – I just need you to know that the reality is today I feel about as strong as a wet noodle. I am limp, I just want to slide to the floor in a puddle of tears. I want all of this to be a bad dream from which I can wake up to the smell of Tim cooking eggs or pancakes because it’s a day off.
Starting the process of finding a new house has brought emotions to the surface that I have known are there, but just didn’t have the courage to face until now. I am working through them now, but the emotions are still very overwhelming at times. I am not so much bothered that we will be starting in a new house – more that it took Tim’s death to make it possible for us to make this move.
A good friend gave me a word picture that I think would be helpful to many – we had been looking at Colossians 1:9-12, where Paul is praying for the church at Colossae that they would be filled “with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding,” so that they would “walk in a manner worthy of the Lord.”
Elaine’s word picture was that of a father straddling over his little one, holding her hands as she learns to walk. The child is learning to walk by hanging onto his fingers and walking in the path that the father sets for her. If she veers off one way or the other, the father need do nothing more than keep walking in the direction he wants to go and the child will course correct because she is holding on to her daddy’s fingers for support as she learns to walk.
Regarding the house that the boys and I looked at last week, we have chosen to pass on that house. I desire with all my heart to be like that little child walking in the path that her Daddy is choosing for her. I realized that the house we looked at, though a perfectly good house, was not on the path that He is setting for us. It was like I was hanging onto those heavenly Fingers and my eyes had been distracted by some eye candy off to the side. As soon as I realized this and I definitively said No, this isn’t the house, His peace flooded into my heart.
We will continue to be like the little child – trusting that our Father will lead us to that which is best for us – a gift that He has picked for us to enjoy in this next chapter of our lives.