Tuesday, December 20, 2016

The Weight of the Wait

I glanced at a piece of paper where I had written notes to myself last Christmas. The summary of challenges and hopes from 2015 listed the ongoing hope that we would know where George would have a job and where we would live and start our life. It was a frustratingly prolonged hope at Christmas, 2015. The frustration of that hope still deferred makes the steps forward feel heavier and the smaller daily challenges in life feel bigger than they ought.

So, as we battle the weight of this continued wait, I must decide each day where my hope comes from, where I will look for the sunshine that comes out each day, where I will find (and see) the overwhelming joy that is to be mine. I must, also, let the small, beautiful details permeate my perspective and remind me (almost constantly) that this struggle (that we call life) is to be lived fully no matter what mountain lies ahead. To the details of today:

  • The adventurers' first discovery of an iced-over creek and the joy of walking (and falling) on frozen water
  • The person I woke up next to this morning, greeting me with delight that I'm his
  • The tiny pancake lover, syrup dripping down his chin, asking for a fourth helping
  • The paw of a Crazy White Dog resting contentedly on my foot as I type
  • The Christmas lights warming up the cold room with their glow
  • The profound comfort of a soft blanket
  • The laughter roaring through this evening as the brothers chased one another about the house
  • The deep breathing that suggests bedtime has been a success 

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