We got there and the car next to us was parked like a total
idiot. For real, it was parked at an extreme angle. Well, I parked and started
getting out the 2 year old when the driver and passenger came to their car. The
passenger obviously could not wait the 3 seconds for me to get my kid out, so
she opened her door and smashed me in the back. No apologies, and yet I withheld
the verbal lashing that was running
through my head.
When we walked in, I realized what I had gotten myself into.
The store was JAM PACKED. But it wasn’t until a fellow shopper rammed me with
her cart that I told the boys “Let’s go to Target.” We slowly made our way to
the door and to the parking lot. I can honestly say that I saved Judah’s life
by pulling him out of the way of a hurried driver taking a turn too quickly.
We got in the car and I felt drained….like someone sucked my
Christmas joy away. Fuckin’ Costco.
This Christmas was the worst too. I have been feeling very
disconnected to my community as it is, but we had to miss 3 family Christmases
due to bronchitis, fevers, ear infections, migraines, throw-ups, and coughs
that wouldn’t relent. Well, except Eric, my husband. He was spared which was a
blessing because he took care of us! Our Christmas morning consisted of waking
up late, opening gifts, singing happy birthday to Jesus, then half of us going straight
to bed. Eric carried around our 2 year old for 3 straight days. He was limp
with fever and pain.
We lost track of days. I couldn't do anything over the break
because I was the sickest. We didn't go out of the house until the last Sunday
of break. All those laid out plans of
visiting the DIA, the historical museum, the Detroit Puppet Theatre, etc.—all gone.
So I am writing all of this because every time something
crazy or stupid happened (me getting a flat tire on the way to work, or a
million other examples), I dug deeper in a pit of self pity. The pit did its
best to suck me in. I was talking to a good friend (something that I started to
shy away from) and she asked if I was depressed. I think I was. So being aware
was something good.
Church was a mixed bag. The feelings of disconnect are
almost worse there…which is soooooooo weird because our church is a huge part
of our lives and we are fairly involved; but this season of our lives we have been
pulling away a bit. The good part of church has been the message. Today in
particular.
Today Beau asked the question “When do you know you have
arrived?” Like, when do you know life is great? My answer was something like “When
we can pay all of our bills on time and we can buy groceries without worry about
the bill.” We have low standards. J
There’s a focus on the self. I have made
it! Me. I. The flip side of the question
was what does your ground zero look like? Your Zero? Your weakest point? This is the point that
Elijah and I went out to blow bubbles. Which was fine by me because I didn't
want to think about that answer. At all.
We came back in for the last song. That’s when the Spirit was
like, “um, Stephanie, you need to answer this.”
Shit.
And the song that James sang was a vintage Genesis song, “Your
Love Never Fails”.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXsWAAhnGhc (Video of the song)
I had memories flooding back to signing this song 8-9 years
ago to Elijah at the end of church. Signing it so that he could understand.
The line in the song that I still can’t sign to this day (without
bursting into tears) is: “There may be pain in the night but joy comes in the
morning.”
Sweet friends, the word pain brings up SOOOO much. That’s my
ZERO. My weakness. It’s my son Elijah. It’s the non-stop ‘just being too short
on money this week’. It’s the disconnect from friends because we are the only
family I know that has to hire 2 babysitters in order to go out.
But the redemption that I need to keep reminding myself of
is THERE IS JOY IN THE MORNING. Seasons come and go, some longer than others,
joy comes back. Even at my ZERO. This season of ZERO started at Costco but
ended today with the reminder of Joy and the promise that my Father makes ALL
things work together for my good.
“Little ones to Him belong; they are weak, but He is strong.”
Man, I hate being weak. But I’m so thankful that at those low, weak, humbling
times that I have a Father who picks me up and cares for me.
Thanks for reading.
Peace to you.
