On March 25, my husband and I celebrated 21 years of marriage. That same week, he had a dress rehearsal for the Easter production, conducted both a wedding and a funeral, catered the school banquet and spoke at the self same banquet to raise funds for the school, and acted in two performances of the church's Easter play. Did I mention it was also Easter week, so he got up before the sun and held the Sunrise service? Sometime in that mess, we went out for our anniversary and had an elegant dinner, and reminisced and spoke about our future and our kids and all the things we've lived through together. Most mornings I'm up and out of bed before anybody else because of school and work and all the things that I have to handle at home, but starting on that Friday morning I didn't. I stayed in my bed and reveled in the luxury of sleeping in a bit longer. Every morning starting with that anniversary morning, I would wake up as my husband rolled over and holding me in his arms told me "Happy anniversary," or today we were in Winston Salem or whatever. It was silly and sweet and even though our lives are crazy, just for a moment it took me back to where we started. Just the two of us.
This week has been very restful for me. I had the whole week off from work and school and for the most part I didn't allow any commitments to shackle my time. I spent time with my kids and read books and sipped tea and just chilled. Then somewhere this weekend I went ahead and let my feelings get hurt. Somebody said something sometime somewhere and I was wounded. It made my heart hurt, and made me wanna run away and never look back and I cried and cried like a baby. The offense escalated in my mind and pretty soon I was done. I spent all day Saturday laying in bed. I read books in bed. I ate in bed. I slept a lot. I cried some more and when my husband unbeknownst to him made the mistake of asking what was wrong, I let him know. Like the wise man he is, he took a minute and tried to talk me down off the ledge and then he took the kids and went off to fix something. He's learned that sometimes all I need is quiet to myself. I was overreacting and I knew it, but man my feelings were hurting something fierce. I went through my day without seeking the said perpetrator of my hurt and letting them have it. My sweet husband checked in with me again before bed and I assured him that I wasn't gonna leave the state or quit church or anything. I'd get over it like a big girl. Then this morning I woke up and before even lifting my head up from the pillow, there He was. He had His arms wrapped tightly around me and He was whispering in my ear exactly what had happened when my feelings were trampled. I realized that what the person said, was not what I heard and it all made sense. At that quiet time, just me and God, He bent down and reminded me of who He was willing to be for me. He let me rant and rage all day yesterday and when I finally calmed down enough to hear Him, He spoke. And in that moment I remembered that He's always been there for me. Just the two of us.