It's not any one particular thing, but a collection that have all met at the corner
of Down and Cast in my heart.
Tomorrow my baby turns eight. I can't get over how fast the years since his birth
have passed. The eight before his birth seemed unbearable. Longing for a child, another child, any child, is an indescribable pain. The joy I felt in having him, however, more than compensated for the agony of waiting. Yet I mourn the fleeting
passage of time as I realize I don't have a "baby baby" left at all.
Tomorrow is also Valentine's Day, and I'm feeling low. It has always meant the world to me that my dad has given each of his girls such love and tender affirmation throughout the year, and that he is gifted in expressing his positive emotions verbally--a rare skill from males, in my limited experience. Why am I feeling low, then? I think it's because I know in my heart of hearts there may be well be only enough Valentine Days left with Daddy as I can count on my fingers. I hope I'm wrong.
Feeling low because tomorrow I have to say goodbye to a precious student of mine.
She and her family are moving to Belgium, so this could well be the very last time I ever see her. I have been holding back my tears. What really hurts is that we haven't had this past week to spend with her or to give her a proper farewell party. We were snowed in and had no school at all. Thankfully, my co-teacher Cheryl and I got out today and decided on a collection of stationery for her, and I've added some of my personal scrapbook paper (which was always a big deal to her to choose from whenever I had special class projects requiring fun paper). I've also rummaged through and wrapped a large variety of my stickers for her to share with her siblings. They might need something to occupy themselves on the long flight to Europe.
Her leaving has brought back a flood of sad memories of when I moved a very long way at her age. Our family packed up and moved from Kansas to Maryland, closing the door on what I still consider the two most perfect years of childhood a girl could ever have. Whereas I could see nothing good about our move, "Mandy" is seeing their move as an adventure, which it is, and I adore her sunny outlook. Her smile and sweet nature are daily graces to me. I wish I'd told her so more often.
Anyway, I am feeling low. I could use your prayers. Tomorrow I will cry and try to remember all the good and wonderful things I have to celebrate instead of dwelling on my losses. To love is to ache once in a while. That's what my heart is doing today.
6 comments:
Yes, I will pray. I know the low. And also know that God is faithful and He lifts us up in His perfect time and in His perfect love!
Have you read
this post? It will make you cry. I'm not trying to make you "lower" but I thought it was beautiful.
Thank you, Laurie. I know you are familiar with the low; mine can't compare, but I can't control my tears today.
Danielle, I clicked over to that article and couldn't get past the first line. I will have to read it later, in a different emotional state. Too hard right now.
It is very hopeful and encouraging at the end. Maybe wait to read it later.
Oh Zo, we are feeling the sadness here too. We've grown very close to the Smiths over the last 3 yrs. (Jadon is Tj's "best friend in the whole world".) I'm sorry and I'll be praying for you tomorrow.
Zo- Remember that my low is not more important or "lower" than your low! Low comes in many depths maybe, but still, low is low!
And no matter the depth, God meets us there and lifts us up. I'm resting in this even if I have to walk around with some remnants of the earthy dirt or sloppy seaweed from the "low"!
"If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,
Even there Your hand will lead me,
And Your right hand will lay hold of me.
If I ascend to heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will overwhelm me,
And the light around me will be night,"
Even the darkness is not dark to You, And the night is as bright as the day..."
Psalm 139:9a-12a
Post a Comment