"Eye of the Storm" by Ryan Stevenson has been playing on my phone all weekend, because that's kind of where I feel we are. We are losing our daughter. After being in our family for almost an entire year, she is leaving. She was only a baby when she came, just learning to walk, starting to use words. Now she's grown into a talkative toddler who charms everyone she meets. She loves swinging and racing her brothers through the house. She sings "let it go" every time I wrap her Frozen towel around her after her bath. She goes to show my husband when she gets her hair done or a dress on and says "pretty!" with a proud smile. She plays hide and seek by covering her eyes and making the voice inflections of counting without knowing the actual numbers and then says "here come!" and goes to find her giggling brothers. She says "bye daddy, I love you" when he leaves for work and chants "mom...mom....mom...mom" until I answer back her name in the same tone. There are a thousand other things I could tell you about her, but all you really need to know is the incredible way that I love her.
And now, I'm being asked to say goodbye to her. It's a horrible, impossible thing to ask a mother to do. How can I possibly look into her precious eyes and say goodbye? How can I, the one person who is supposed to be dependable, let her down by never coming back to get her? How do I explain to her siblings that she's leaving and comfort their tender hearts? How can I be a good mother to my children as I am consumed with grief of losing another? These are the questions I've been pondering.
On Saturday she left for her longest visit, not returning until Wednesday, and then transitioning permanently next Saturday. After she left Nathaniel came over and laid his head on my shoulder and cried. Dan came and wrapped us both in a long hug.
Here is the place where my heart is: I trust God. I know He is good and faithful and I know that if He isn't intervening then He is using this as a part of His plan, for her and for all of us. But even though I trust him, I'm still so sad. It's been a while since we have experienced loss, and I had forgotten just how much it hurts. And its easy to want to close in to that sorrow and let it cover me up. It's easy to isolate and let grief consume me. But God is working to teach me once again that I can't separate life into separate boxes that are convenient for me, and that there's beauty in the place that sorrow and joy crash into each other.
Thursday morning when I found out a final date for her leaving, I was about to walk out the door to a "Girls Day Getaway" planned by my dear friends. I struggled to fathom leaving after receiving news like that, but I knew I would end up trying to hide my tears from the kids all day otherwise so I opted to share them with my friends instead. I was blessed to be allowed a safe place to cry and talk. And by the end of the day, floating on the lake, I was able to laugh harder than I had in a long time while my heart was still heavy.
Saturday morning we said goodbye for the long visit, and then left for a college friends wedding. I had been so looking forward to getting to see so many of my good friends who I rarely see anymore, but after the news it was hard to imagine celebrating. But good friends truly have healing powers and their joy was infectious. By the end of the night, we were dancing with the kids on the dance floor. Nathaniel running and spinning around, Samuel shaking his butt and laying on the floor trying to do the worm, and B kicking and waving her hands to the music and lights. It was so much fun to watch the kids dance and enjoy it so much. And in the exact heartbeat that was flooded with joy of watching them I felt the pain that our family wasn't whole, wasn't all there. Neither emotion drown out the other, they just existed simultaneously.
The song that I've been playing "Eye of the Storm" has been pointing me to the reality that joy and sorrow, chaos and calm, can exist together. Not only can they, but maybe they are meant to.
The refrain says: "In the eye of the storm, you remain in control. In the middle of the war, you guard my soul. You alone are the anchor, when my sails are torn, your love surrounds me, in the eye of the storm."
In my limited knowledge of storms, I know there is a calm in the middle, while the storm is raging and creating havoc all around, right in the eye there is usually a calm. I believe that's where God is calling me to go. I can try to tough out the storm on my own, I can take cover and protect myself, or I can seek God who is always at the center, always in control. The closer and closer I can get to Him, the more peace I will find in this storm, because the two can exist together. But in order to get to the eye I have to head straight into the storm, not try to hide.
I was blessed to be able to read one of my favorite verses at my friends wedding:
Phil 4: 4-9
"Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice! Your kindness should be known to all. The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me. Then the God of peace will be with you"
In the midst of my grief I am constantly reminded of my blessings. "Think about such things". Today I watched Dan playing with the kids, they were all laughing so hard they were almost tipping over. But there were only 3, again someone was missing. The joy and sorrow found their place together and I felt I was being given the opportunity to learn more about the heart of Jesus. As I studied their beautiful smiles and took in the sound of their laughter, I realized that each one of them had come out of a storm. And I remembered why it is so easy to trust Him in the storm, because He's always met me there and always seen me through. It looks so scary and impossibly hard and honestly I really don't want to do it, but I'll trust Him, and I know He'll be here in the boat with me the whole time, always in control.
