The long drive home...

I've been crying like a baby all morning. It's been a rough weekend. I've been overwhelmed with darkness and depression. Unable to eat ( which in my case isn't the worst thing in the world, lol) I've literally survived the past few days on coffee, ibuprofen and prayer.

I'm weary. Tired of the stabbing pain in my back. Tired of a husband that will never really understand, as much as he tries. Tired of hearing tragic stories on the news. Tired of that twinge of fear that surges through me every time I send Evangeline of to preschool. Tired of my selfish heart that complains when the baby wakes up in the middle of the night. There are mother's that have buried their infants that would love to hear that sweet cry in the middle of the night. My head knows this... but still I complain. I feel guilty for crumbling under the pressure and circumstances that so many others would call blessings if they were in my place.

I've listened to lies from the enemy this weekend. Lies that tell me I'm just a burden to my family. That they would be better off without me. That maybe this whole God and Jesus stuff is too good to be true. Just a cruel joke on humanity. Lies.

Thankfully, the more you hear the TRUTH... the more it resonates within your desperate soul. And no matter how dark it gets... just a tiny flicker of light permeates the darkness... and suddenly you wonder why you were so afraid of the dark.

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night.' Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for the darkness is as light with you."
~ Psalm 139:11-12

Did I mention that I've been crying like a baby all morning? Kind of like the screaming baby in the back seat for the entire 30 min. drive home from the chiropractor this morning. Sweet little Adeline is having a difficult time. Her cries are familiar to me. Sometimes she's simply tired, sometimes I can tell she's in pain... but this morning it was a symphony of cries. She was exhausted, in pain and very angry that she had to be in that awful carseat. Oh, the poor thing. I tried to settle her down at the office, but it was clear that I was only prolonging the agonizing trip home.

... and so she cried for 30 minutes... and I cried for 30 minutes... and The Lord graciously lit a small candle of His truth that permeated the present, overwhelming darkness. His voice to me reflected exactly what I wanted to say to my sweet crying daughter in back seat.

I wanted to tell her that I hate hearing her cry. It breaks my heart to hear her cry. I didn't want to put
her in that awful carseat... but it was the safest way to get her home. I would rather just sit in the parking lot and cuddle her... but we wouldn't get home that way. I would rather just hold her on the way home, but it wouldn't be safe.
Please don't cry! We're almost home! I have everything you need there. I'll scoop you up as soon as I can. Your cries don't annoy me. I don't get tired of you. Your cries don't make me want to back away from you... they make me want to hold you. They let me know that you need me.
We're going straight there. I don't want you to cry for one moment longer than you need to. I know you're tired and hungry and angry... but I will take care of all of that when we get there. I'll wipe your tears away as soon as we get there... and this awful journey will fade quickly. We're almost home.