I pray, sweet girl, that God sends you a man to marry who is just as perfect for you as your daddy is for me.
We've had a really, really rough week. We had to be out of the house for most of the week due to repairs from a roof leak. Between trips back and forth to Greenwood, and attempts to participate in other social activities, today was evidently the breaking point. Everyone was a disaster. As your brother would say, "Having a meltdown!"
After over an hour of hysterics I finally put Gideon in the Ergo and walked around the neighborhood to get him to sleep. After I put him in his bed, I walked into my bedroom and hit the floor.
I sobbed. I am exhausted. I am overwhelmed. I am touched out. I am confused. I can't seem to figure out half of what your brother is going through right now. I am ashamed. I want so badly to offer your daddy a peaceful and happy home, but that's just not how it is right now. I feel trapped. I can't seem to get out of the house without one of my babies becoming hysterical, so I feel like I shouldn't even try to leave. Every time we attempt to go anywhere it ends in disaster. Motherhood is hard. So. Incredibly. Hard. So, I sobbed those deep, long, painful sobs and I prayed. I prayed the simplest prayer. The thing I ask of Him when I am absolutely beyond even knowing where to start. "Lord, help me." I sobbed and prayed.
Your daddy came in and put a hand on my back and whispered in my ear, "I love you. I love you so much. Take all the time you need." and then he went out. There is nothing more perfect that he could have done. He offered me his love and support, and then he offered me time and space.
He is such a wise man, Lydia. It will take you a long while to understand that. But, really, he is so good and so wise. He knew he couldn't "fix" my problem. He knows me so well. He knew I needed Christ in that moment more than anything else. But, still, he knew that his love and reassurance would be helpful to me. So he rubbed my back gently and briefly, he gave me his love, and he gave me permission, time, and space to fall apart in the hands of my God.
As we looked at the mascara stain I left on the carpet when all was calm again, I told him that I know God is refining me. He's teaching me, in these moments that are so hard, that I am not in control. He's teaching me to let go of the illusion of control that I cling to so hard. He's showing me that there is no benefit to my attempts to control things, that the only reward is in relinquishing my sense of control to His true control. But, oh, how hard that lesson is.
And your daddy knows. He knows that God's not done with me. He knows these changes can be painful. But he loves me so. He loves me when I'm a mess. He loves me when I leave mascara stains in the carpet. He loves me when I'm in a moment of darkness and confusion, crying on the floor with my hands opened up, seeking God. He loves me when he watches me fall apart so that I can let God change me.
I pray that you might be less stubborn than I am, that you might let Him change you without such a fight. I pray that for you now, because, from what I know of you in these 3 short months, you are going to need those prayers.
Love you, my precious girl.
Momma
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