Twelve years ago tomorrow I married the man of my dreams. :-) And amazingly enough, he still is! and we were 18 hours into our anniversary weekend when I got a phone call asking me to come home to Eli running a temp. Now that he's resting quietly on the couch and all is right with the world again. Except that I still miss Rob. An ache that has become so familiar these past six weeks, but still gnaws.
I have such a great respect for our men and women serving in the military, leaving their spouses on the homefront for a year at a time. Wow. What a stretch. Plus the dangerous nature of their employment. I mean, let's face it, being a youth pastor isn't exactly living on the edge. (most of the time) And I've been so blessed to spend every weekend, or at least a chunk of each weekend, reunited with Rob.
So I just want to take the opportunity to express how thankful I am for Rob. Thankful that we have a really great marriage. Thankful that we are still each other's best friend. Thankful that there is an ache in my heart when he is far away. And so grateful for our 18 hours of undivided attention to one another yesterday. It soothed my soul.
I am also thankful that when the tide of loneliness threatens to overtake me, pull me under with it's self-consuming current, that God steps in each time and pulls me up again, and reminds me that He is supposed to be my first love. I'm learning, ever so slowly, I am learning.
I pray that when this experience is over and I'm standing firmly planted with on the other side (holding my husband's hand tightly) that I'll have passed this test rather than failed it. So many times I feel like I'm not living up to God's standard for me in this, or not learning what I need to learn. But I do have the occasional "I can do this!" mentality and am trying to stand on those times rather than the others.
There are so much worse things we could be walking through. I was counting blessings as I raced back to Baytown. We are so blessed that the house sold. Thank You, Jesus. We are blessed that Rob has a job that he loves. Blessed because we are a loving family that actually enjoys each others company. Blessed that we have a good support network in two different cities. Blessed to have Facebook and cell phones, we are still involved in each other's lives! Blessed to have a cat that has been my constant c0mpanion. She may be the only one who misses Rob more than me. :) Blessed to have my Bible, the freedom and time to study it. Blessed to have an iPod filled with good solid worship music. Blessed to have a bestie who helps me to be strong when I'm falling apart. Blessed to have two beautiful children who are a joy to me every day. blessed, blessed, blessed.
And there's the irony. The whole time we planned this weekend, I felt guilty about being away from the kids on Mother's Day. As I type this, Sarah's tromping around the house in my fancy flip-flops, looking cuter than cute. I almost felt relieved to be reunited with them for tomorrow. I love being a mom, even though I rarely feel like I'm good at it. Insecure, I suppose. But I see other moms whose world revolves around their kids; chaperoning every field trip and hosting every school holiday party, freaking out about every sniffle or scrape, wrapping their entire lives around their kids. I'm just not that mom. I love my kids, don't get me wrong, but I fully realize (every day in fact) that they will one day soon grow up and leave my nest. My influence in their lives fades a bit each day as they grow older, and eventually they will be off doing their own thing. I'll still love them, support them, pray for them. But my very existence won't be hinged on their every movement.
I've been praying during this transition that God would give me an incredible love for my children. That He would grow me in this area, that I would see them as He sees them, and treasure all the little things, all the special moments. That I would appreciate the crinkles around Eli's eyes when he laughs and the glint of the sun in Sarah's hair when she's dancing in the yard. That I would love the grasp of their grubby hands when we go for a walk or even the wet tears on my shoulder when they cry over some small hurt. I want to be a better mom, and I know that only God can cultivate that in my heart.
Well, that's a lot of deep stuff for a Saturday morning. I'm going to log off now, and go see if Sarah would like to scrapbook with me. Who knows, maybe this Mother's Day weekend is part of an answer to my prayer?
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