I took the kids to breakfast where they devoured blueberry pancakes and we discussed what we might be learning at church afterwards.
Caeden: Probably something about what Dad has been up to.
Claire: I love church.
Val: To learn more about how God wants me to live my life.
We left the restaurant and walked outside into the sunshine. Feeling great about how the day had started, I noticed some acquaintances walking into the restaurant – a family of five. Laughing about something, looking relaxed and casual. I tried not to notice their ease and my frazzled (yet remarkable ability to hold down the fort in public – ha!) state.
All the way to church my heart felt heavy. Getting used to being a family of three is so much easier in theory than in practice. I ache for our family of four and I can’t help but feel so sad when I am constantly reminded that we aren’t.
I didn’t tell Al and Diane this, (they are my good friends and neighbors) as we met in the church parking lot, but seeing their friendly faces and having them to sit with in church felt like a big hug from God. Feeling like He placed them in my path so I wouldn’t feel so all alone. I sat with them during worship and cried during the music, during the Father’s Day announcements, and during the actual sermon. It’s just so hard to go … trying to be closer to Him and find comfort in His promises and His grace, yet feeling the loss of Wayne more acutely there than anywhere else.
I guess my point is, healing can hurt just as much as the wound does. I keep waiting for this tightness in my throat to leave me alone and let me smile and laugh and quit crying …
So on this day I still wait.
And I know blueberry pancakes will await us next Sunday as does God’s word.
And I heal just a little bit more.