A pale light creeps up in the east. The purple clouds are streaked with brilliant pink as the world rolls over and begins to waken. It reminds me of a painting Makiah did at preschool that she painted with a fork- subtle lines etch an intricate pattern into the sky, swirling color through the cumulous layers. And I am on the porch.
I am sipping mocha, munching cinnamon bagels, watching the sky... and crossing a rickety bridge over a chasming gulf. It has been almost a year since I have been here. Almost a year since I got pregnant with twins and became too sleepy to keep my morning appointment like I should. Almost a year since I was put on bed rest and wanted to spend my mornings there in bed. Almost a year since the wreck, and I did not want to come out anymore. Here is where I feel accepted, but I have been rejected. Here is where I feel loved,but I have been hated. Here is where I am known, but I have been cast aside. Here is where I watch the light creep up in the sky and in my soul, but I have been shrouded in darkness. Here is where I would pray that God would "zacar" me- "remember" me like Rachel in the Hebrew scriptures and open my womb like hers, but I have been utterly forgotten. Or have I???
A few weeks ago I stumbled onto a website and a book called "one thousand gifts." I thought to myself how I would like to read it and needed to order it. The next day I waited in the car with the girls while Cameron went in to the Christian bookstore. He came striding out and handed me the book. My mouth dropped open because I had not told anyone I wanted it. He said the owner was on the phone with his wife and mentioned that Cameron was there. She told her husband to give this book to him for me to read. I must confess that my first reaction was anger- not at the precious lady who so clearly heard from God- to her I offer thanks. But anger at God who would care to send me the book I secretly wanted but not preserve the life of the beloved daughter I so openly longed for.
Then there was last night. My amazing husband came out in a suit and asked me out for dinner. A half dozen dresses later, I finally found one that would still zip, and we were off to dine by candlelight. We laughed and cried and celebrated almost a decade of togetherness. We clinked our sparkling water glasses and toasted eternity. We made a pact to talk about it more- to try to spend the next decade living in light of the endless decades to come on the other side where all real living begins. He asked for the check, and we were shocked when the waitress said our meal- our expensive meal- had been paid for anonymously by someone in the dining room.
She said it was all covered.
Paid in full.
This morning feeding babies early, the words kept ringing through my mind. Paid in full. Paid. In. Full. I want to thank the stranger for our anniversary dinner. More than that. I want you to know it is because of you and those words that would not leave me alone this morning that I am out here on this porch again. Sitting in the blackness of my room the light beckoned me through the slits of my blinds and the darkness in my heart, and I could see the reason I will hold her again. I remembered that I come to the porch because the debt I owe, the cost for my life and my mistakes, has been paid in full.
I am sipping mocha, munching cinnamon bagels, watching the sky... and crossing a rickety bridge over a chasming gulf. It has been almost a year since I have been here. Almost a year since I got pregnant with twins and became too sleepy to keep my morning appointment like I should. Almost a year since I was put on bed rest and wanted to spend my mornings there in bed. Almost a year since the wreck, and I did not want to come out anymore. Here is where I feel accepted, but I have been rejected. Here is where I feel loved,but I have been hated. Here is where I am known, but I have been cast aside. Here is where I watch the light creep up in the sky and in my soul, but I have been shrouded in darkness. Here is where I would pray that God would "zacar" me- "remember" me like Rachel in the Hebrew scriptures and open my womb like hers, but I have been utterly forgotten. Or have I???
A few weeks ago I stumbled onto a website and a book called "one thousand gifts." I thought to myself how I would like to read it and needed to order it. The next day I waited in the car with the girls while Cameron went in to the Christian bookstore. He came striding out and handed me the book. My mouth dropped open because I had not told anyone I wanted it. He said the owner was on the phone with his wife and mentioned that Cameron was there. She told her husband to give this book to him for me to read. I must confess that my first reaction was anger- not at the precious lady who so clearly heard from God- to her I offer thanks. But anger at God who would care to send me the book I secretly wanted but not preserve the life of the beloved daughter I so openly longed for.
Then there was last night. My amazing husband came out in a suit and asked me out for dinner. A half dozen dresses later, I finally found one that would still zip, and we were off to dine by candlelight. We laughed and cried and celebrated almost a decade of togetherness. We clinked our sparkling water glasses and toasted eternity. We made a pact to talk about it more- to try to spend the next decade living in light of the endless decades to come on the other side where all real living begins. He asked for the check, and we were shocked when the waitress said our meal- our expensive meal- had been paid for anonymously by someone in the dining room.
She said it was all covered.
Paid in full.
This morning feeding babies early, the words kept ringing through my mind. Paid in full. Paid. In. Full. I want to thank the stranger for our anniversary dinner. More than that. I want you to know it is because of you and those words that would not leave me alone this morning that I am out here on this porch again. Sitting in the blackness of my room the light beckoned me through the slits of my blinds and the darkness in my heart, and I could see the reason I will hold her again. I remembered that I come to the porch because the debt I owe, the cost for my life and my mistakes, has been paid in full.
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