I haven’t seen the sun since you’ve been gone. I’ve been waiting for each promised storm to pass through, thrill my heart, and break this humidity, only to leave me waiting longer, still. Perhaps tonight it will storm. Perhaps, you’ll give us a reprieve.
Everything seems so still; no movement in the thick air around me to indicate some sort of change is coming. All I want to do is stare out these windows all day, ignore any timelines or commitments, and reflect on those gray skies. When I do, even if just for a moment, I realize I’m happy.
I thrive on motion, but even in absence, my heart is full and alive.
Oh the fruit of laboring into rest. What a foreign, contradictory thought to completely grasp.
What directive truth.
I spent the morning drinking coffee, planning workouts, and flipping through old photo albums. I saw photos of family vacations and afternoons with friends. Photos documenting so many forgotten memories of a little girl I hardly recognized, but still looked so familiar. My heart was delighted as I turned another page, trying to remember those days, and heard you whisper, “I knew you then”.
I feel like my life has just recently begun in so many ways, that I forget you’ve known me all along.
And you loved me then.
You loved me then. You knew me then. You knew where I was going and where I’d end up, and you weren’t worried. You weren’t surprised. You knew I’d make it here. And you’re so proud.
I see the magnitude – and the miracle – of growth when I consider the forgotten years. The pride that wells up in a parents heart as they watch their children grow, with the full knowledge and remembrance of every single day of their life, has been poured out on me.
I might not know the whole process, I might not remember all those days, but you do.
And you loved the process, you loved those seemingly insignificant days.
You still love the process. You still remember the beginning.
You love this.
Do not despise the small beginnings, for the Lord loves to see the work begin.
I heard today that you’ve always loved me just where I am.
Wish you were here…