Blessed Beyond Measure

I've been trying to think of a way to climb aboard this blog again. I miss it. I'm overwhelmed with life right now, to be sure, so much unpacking and lesson planning and plugging into our new community yet to be done. But I miss the craft, the challenge of transforming thoughts and emotions into words on a screen. I miss the clarity which that creative process seems to provide me. And most of all, I miss the dear friends who join me here.

Every time that I sit down to write, however, I find that I have nothing to say. The words just don't come.

I've been struggling with a deep sense of existential loneliness lately, and I find myself drifting dangerously close to the depths of darkness. I know these overpowering feelings well, feelings of being unloved and unlovable, despite the reality of being surrounded by people who love me. I also know my tendency to retreat and disengage at times like this...and the damage that this inevitably does to my children. I want so much better for them.

Last night I was determined to risk my heart and write about my struggles, in an effort to reconnect and make sense of it somehow. But it was not at all the way I'd intended to jumpstart my blog. Shouldn't I write about the loveliness of our summer vacation instead? Shouldn't I keep this home of my heart warm and inviting and filled with light, happy thoughts so that visitors might feel welcome here? Why risk so much?

I struggled with these thoughts and in the end I couldn't write it. I went to bed. Tired and worn and so very alone.

I awoke this morning to the phone ringing beside my bed. Jim had already left for work. Mariana was sleeping in his place, and she quickly answered it. (Talking on the phone has become her new favorite pastime, apparently even in the early morning hours.) I overheard my sister say through the receiver, "Mariana, come down to the door."

My dear, sweet, lovable sister had loaded her four sleepy children into the van at 6:45am and driven for an hour and a half to surprise me with breakfast in bed for my 41st birthday. (My dear, sweet, lovable husband had forgotten to leave the door unlocked.)

She, my dearest of friends, spent the day and night here, just being with me and making me feel loved. Jim, my dearest of true loves, allowed her to play center stage today, caring for all ten kids so that we sisters could enjoy a peaceful dinner by ourselves. The children showered me with gifts of the heart all day long, from a fancy lunchtime tea to treasures retrieved from their dresser drawers to hugs and kisses tenderly bestowed.

I don't believe that any of them knew the deep heartache of loneliness I had carried the night before.

It was the most blessed of birthdays, the kind of gift that could only be designed in Heaven, granted to me because He did know. Thank You, dear Lord, for showing me just how much I am loved.