I’m preparing to enter into one of the longest separations my husband and I have had to endure. As the weeks leading up to his deployment have come and gone, I’ve struggled to answer a simple question, ‘How am I?’ I’ve felt as though I’m numb. Maybe in denial. Or maybe it’s the peace that surpasses all understanding. I shared with one dear friend that I’ve felt a resistance to plan strategies for my survival . . . and as a natural planner, that is HUGE. This friend shared with me an impression she had for me: survival to life. My heart leapt and screamed YES! I don’t want to merely survive this time apart from my husband, I want life to flow in the midst of his absence. I desire for this to be an opportunity to shift my thinking from survival to life. An opportunity to invite my Father into the space ahead of me . . . and there is much within the spaces of my heart and my mind.
When my heart aches for my best friend, for the love of my life, Jesus meet me in this space of loneliness.
When my kids are sad and acting out because they miss their daddy, Jesus meet me in this space of broken hearts and help me to teach them to invite You into their spaces.
When I’m faced with sickness, appointments, practices and chores, Jesus meet me in this space of it’s all up to me.
When I feel the pull to put on the cape, a forced smile and a programed response of ‘everything is awesome!’, Jesus meet me in this space of posing.
When I’m faced with people who want to help me feel better with their comments and stories of how 4 months will fly by, how their neighbor had to deploy for a year so I should feel lucky, Jesus meet me in this space of needing grace for others . . . and when I utterly fail at extending grace, Jesus meet me in this space of receiving grace.
When my kids are driving me crazy and I want to pick up the phone to call my mom and make plans of bringing the kids to her for a reprieve, Jesus meet me in this space of grief.
When a pattern forms with consecutive nights of Blue Bell ice cream, a glass of wine and a People Magazine, Jesus meet me in this space of avoiding.
The space before me is wide, vast and deep . . . and so is the love of my Father. While listening to music at the gym one morning, a lyric from a song I had never heard captured my attention: Your love is loyal. As the song continued on, I hear the phrase, ‘You look into my eyes. See the things I hide. And say You will never leave.’
As I enter the singe digits until my husband leaves, as I experience moments of my breath being caught and anxiety rising inside me thinking of the moment he will get into his airplane and fly away, Jesus meet me in this space of waiting.