myself, when i am real.

a year ago I was starting to feel it.  the wounds were scarring over nicely, and the pain had diminished.  I could look at pictures of our past few years without crying.  I could pray.  that was a big one for me. the feeling that God had abandoned me in a hospital room for three months was fading.
but, everything backed up again with the birth of my son.  I've spent the months asking why, and knowing i'll likely never get an answer. the distance returned.  the trust diminished.  I can happily spit out the things people want to hear so they aren't uncomfortable, 'we are just so thankful that he's here and okay.'
and, it's true.  I am thankful.  but, i'm also angry.  and sad. and frustrated.  and I want more than anything to know God.  to feel Him.  to think He might be hearing me when I ask for things.  but, not just hearing me.  responding to me.  wanting to give me good things.  no more hard please.  I need a big long break from hard.
the past few weeks have been wrought with ugly parenting things with my big.  I never see them coming, and I have no idea if we are doing anything right when these things hit.  so tonight, I climbed up the ladder to her bed, and laid next to her.  I sang to her.  she sang to me.  she talked about things that seem so small from my adult world.  they're significant to her.  so I listened. 
then, she rolled over, sucked her thumb, and rubbed her lambie between her fingers.  I rubbed her back and silently thought.  or prayed.  or maybe those two things are one in the same.  I thought about how angry I am about hospital stays.  how I just keep cycling through the same things over and over.  and, maybe, she's angry about hospital stays too.  but, she's six.  and she doesn't know exactly how to say that.  so it looks different than it does for me.
I thought about how I can go to God over and over again, with my ugly thoughts, and my frustrations with Him, and how He doesn't ever seem to lose his temper.  He just lets me be angry.  and I pictured him rubbing my back as I fall asleep at the end of a day where I have spent the whole day stomping my feet and yelling at Him.  how He always seems to be there when I look back at things, right in the middle of it all, sustaining me.  and I told Him that I was trying.  trying to figure out who He was.  and that I would continue to seek, pursue, and run after Him, even on the days where i'm not sure how I feel about Him.  and I told Him that was really hard for me because I was afraid that He might abandon me.  get angry and decide i'm not worth the effort. or that He already had.
I eventually kissed big on the head and told her she was my favorite six year old in the whole world wide.  and I thanked her for singing to me.  the song she sang, was a kids song, by an artist named Justin Roberts.  lots of his stuff is really silly.  but, for some reason, she picked a song from one of his c.d.'s that is taken from old testament stories.  specifically, this song was taken from job. as if her lips were singing a soothing balm to a broken heart.

'where were you, when I laid the earth's foundation?
where were you, when I set the stars in space?
and they all sang together.
they all sang together up in space.
allelu, allelu, alleleuia.'

(if you want to hear the whole song, this is not him singing it, but it has the words with it)

someday, all things will be made right.  maybe, i'll even get to see the bigger plan that played into the last three years being hard.  but, for now, this doesn't wrap up neatly.  things are hard.  and, I don't want to act like it's all okay.  I struggle.  if you struggle too, that's okay.  if you're tired of hearing pat answers, and warding off those who blame you so that they can continue to believe that really hard things are from a lack of faith, come join me in.  it's hard here.  but, there are lots of really good days.  and laughter abounds because I use sarcasm to get through the hard ones.

and then there were three.

mostly, I've felt like I just can't do it.  i'm already tired.  i'm already stretched.  how could I ever add another kid to this mix?  will I ever sleep?  will my other kids end up getting the short end of the stick for a while?  I just can't imagine adding more to what already feels like chaos.

and, then, I look up and the sunlight and shadows take turns dancing across her beads and face.  she concentrates on getting the next Lincoln log in just the right spot.  she adds chairs and beds, a fireplace, and a table.  she shares the details of the little world she has made. it seems impossible that she hasn't always been this age.  she was once a very little, little.  i soak up the moment and look forward to sharing these things with another child.

all the while, little is snuggled under a blanket, in the crook of my right elbow, sleeping.  she just couldn't make it until nap time, and i have not the heart to wake her.  i sit quietly feeling each breath she takes in and lets back out. i think of how much closer she is to walking, and how she will no longer feel like a baby to me when that happens.  i brush the hairs out of her face, and become thankful that soon, i'll have another little to sleep in my arms.

and, i remember how with each child, God has given me a verse.  and, they have fit perfectly into what His plans are for our lives, for our children's lives, and for our family.  so i try hard to focus on the verses He gave me for this little instead of the exhaustion and sickness i am experiencing.  i remember that while i will likely deal with the same struggles with tiny, of learning boundaries, and respect, and kindness, that it won't be in the first day, or week, or even month of life.  i'll have time to settle into the role of mother of three.
and, so to celebrate, and look forward to the joy that looms ahead, i buy a onesie.  a teeny tiny one that seems like it could never fit a real live person.  and i lay it out, and look at it, reminding me of days to come filled with toothless smiles, first times for all sorts of new things, and a sleeping baby on my chest.

a pursuing papa.

shilo has a preference.  some may refer to it as a slight obsession.  she only wants her mama.  i can be literal feet away from her while papa is holding her, and there will likely be tears, and an attempt to leap from his arms towards me.

attempting to reach mama.

when she finally is back in my arms she gives me a hug, then sits up and smiles.  repeat around ten times.  two minutes. two hours.  doesn't matter.  she missed her mama.

shilo's elated smile when returned to mama.

this would make sense if jason was a horrible papa.  but, he isn't.  he loves snuggling.  and she hasn't always felt like this.  it was an all of a sudden one day thing, where she decided that she really only wanted mama.  when he kisses her goodnight, she turns away.  if he tries to put her down for bed, she cries before he ever makes it up the steps.  she. just. wants. mama.

as this scene was playing out for the billionth time the other day, i had a moment where i was reminded of another Papa like this.  no matter how much shilo cries, turns away, and searches out someone else to fulfill her needs, her papa will continue to hold her while she cries, and meet those needs.  she doesn't understand this yet, but with time, she will.
no matter how much i mess up, fall short, and try to pursue something other than my Papa, He will continue to hold me and love me.  we have been all over the place in the last year, God and i.  i have been super angry.  baffled.  bitter.  unbelieving.  disheartened.  through it all, He continued to be right there.  He held me even though i cried about it.  He listened to me even though He wasn't the one i really wanted to talk to.  He stayed right there pursuing me.
i'm pretty thankful for the amazing earthly example that i get to see of my husband loving my daughters, the way God loves us.