Dear Reader & Friend,
I’m sorry I haven’t been writing to you. Life has been full with good things and a to-do list that seems to undo itself–a house that seems to unclean itself each week. But you get it. You feel the same way, having trouble finding time to pause, and breathe in God’s goodness; time to think and ponder and dream. I pray you find time for those life-giving activities this weekend.
I felt a pressing truth I needed to squeeze in a moment to tell you.
THIS TIME WILL PASS
This time will pass of waiting with questions, and answers that are too big for you to wrap your thoughts around.
This time will pass of mind-numbing work, wondering if you’re making a difference.
This time will pass of sleepless nights and foggy days, up round the clock feeding a needy human that pulls the life from your tired body.
This time will pass of tension in your home–thick silence as you wade in the muddy water of hurt and resentment.
This time will pass of sticky kisses, and “Mommy I want you,” and “Hold me.”
This time will pass of aching uncertainty, chest heavy with rocks, minutes passing like gravel through your tender heart.
This time will pass of “honey I’m too tired,” or “let’s sneak away,” like school children stealing a few sacred minutes together.
This time will pass when you feel called to something greater, but tied to something that’s needed.
This time will pass of arms and legs pulled in every direction, lap always full, your body never your own.
This time will pass of childlike enthusiasm, curious questions, and “just one more” story.
This time will pass of a confusing blur of doctor appointments and medicine, side effects, and charts of numbers to explain your painful reality.
This time will pass of holding hands, and wrinkling your nose as you laugh at an inside joke, looking at each other with certain love, and fragile hope.
This time will pass of feeling breathless from a pain too big to feel at once, and loss too big to ever fill.
This time will pass of hoping and trying, and waiting, and testing–the crush of another negative, the painful push to keep trying.
This time will pass of disappointment, of resentment and hurt, of unmet expectations, and longing…
This time will pass of smallness, of innocence, of dreaming, and planning…
This moment, in its mundaneness, its beauty, its pain, its plainness–it will pass.
It will all come to pass.
So we must rub our sleepy eyes, and pay attention. We must tie our heart to the present, and offer our presence, to show up, to love, and to trust that each moment is writing a beautiful story of redemption and grace, woven into the greatest love story ever written.