the darkness doesn't hide from Him

Did I even read the Bible before?

Or does it just seem completely different now?

Some stuff is piercing; crushing. I don't understand. I haven't studied. But it's hard to know. . . is this a broken promise?

. . .those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing. . .

God?

Gabe was a good thing . . . .

More tears to swallow yesterday morning hearing those promises out of Psalm 34. . .

Later.

Someday.

Light?

Understanding?

Comprehension?

Maybe only eternity will answer the cries of my heart.

I know enough about God to know that He is the definition of Love. Love doesn't break promises. So. . . I just don't understand His hand right now, I guess.

But look at this.

Wrapping my heart around this.

Clinging. Knowing. Living this.

If I say

surely the darkness shall cover me

even the night

shall be light all around me

. . .the darkness does not hide from Thee

. . .the darkness and the light

are both alike to Thee

from Psalm 139:11,12

He isn't hiding from our darkness.

He knows how dark it is.

He is with me in the dark.

And I love Him for that.

Hey Buddy. . .

I miss you on Sunday mornings.



{I miss you on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesdy mornings, too.}



I wish you and I were up together setting out yogurts for the kids.



Wish you were lookin' like a little hunk in your penny loafers and khakis.



I looked in your nursery cubby-hole at church this week for the first time. . . I think I thought maybe I'd find something of yours. But you aren't here, so there wasn't anything left. No little stray outfits or pacifiers.



You get to worship Jesus on Sunday mornings and be with Him. But you aren't with me and that's so hard for me, little man.



Lots of dripping tears for you this week.



I love you, Gabe.



Love,



Mommy

this hand is bitterness

.

This hand is bitterness -- we want to taste it

let the hatred numb our sorrow

The wise hand opens slowly

to lilies of the valley -- and tomorrow.

from Natalie Grant's amazing {Held}

I never understood the concept of hatred drowning out sorrow. . .

never had any reason to contemplate that.

When you grow up in an incredible family

marry a gorgeous guy

live in a beautiful home

have friends you don't deserve

receive the gift of three perfect children. . .

. . .that kind of existence doesn't negate the obvious stresses of life, but it also doesn't lend itself to. . .

bitter tears

crushing pain

confusion in relationships

broken hearts

anger at people who don't understand

bewildering loneliness

frightening loss of reason and balance

I am struggling with forgiveness tonight. . .

It's oh so much easier to let hatred numb the sorrow.

Irrational anger at ones who don't understand. But how could they?

Frustration with carefree people. Carefree. What does that feel like again?

Fury directed at stuff that doesn't matter. Let's fixate on how annoying it is that Cambria threw sand in the pool and clogged the pool filter. If I can stay annoyed, maybe I won't feel the pulsating grief.

Not angry with God.

How could I be angry at the Giver of Gabe's life?

I have cried out to the silent heavens, standing by his little grave, God. . . . whhhhhhhhyyyyyyyy?

And those stories you hear of people who are so incredibly submissive to the will of God in the face of unspeakable tragedy?

Yeah, not us.

There was a lot of ER hallway wall pounding from Daniel -- God, no, no, no, no, God! A lot of screaming no, no, no, no, God from me {in pillows, in the car with the windows rolled up, into his little fire hat}.

I've told God that it's too hard.

I've told Him that I don't want to do this.

But I am not shaking my fist at my Heavenly Father.

People, on the other hand. . .

I need so much grace for relationships right now.

I am so weak.

My flesh is so strong.

It is so tempting to nurse bitterness.

To be slow to forgive.

To allow wounds to fester instead of heal.

To close my heart to anyone who is less than superhuman. Our friends & amazing family - yes, you guys - you are superhuman. {everyone can't be superhuman? what?}

Yuck.

God - can You drown out the bitterness. . .

the anger

the hatred

the wounds that seem too deep to heal?

You can heal.

You are way strong enough to fix our broken hearts.

You can supply the oil of forgiveness.

My cup is so empty, Lord.

There isn't anything in my heart left to give. . .

. . . but You are the Giver of Life.

You are also the Giver of Eternal Life.

I love You for that tonight - the promise of eternity with You.

pizza margherita

Daniel is in the middle of 72 hours right now. . .

No fun to eat pizza by yourself, but something tells me this is pretty girl-y pizza. Not sure a guy would be a fan of fresh mozzarella pearls.

Oh yum. . . so, so good!

handful of Rhodes bread dough

large tomato

fresh basil

fresh mozzarella pearls

fresh ground salt & pepper

Pat dough into circle, layer with sliced tomato, cheese, and spices. Bake for 15 minutes at 385.

Dude.

Cambria, watching me squeeze key limes {for Loren's Key Lime Bread} and very impressed with the process:

"Du-u-u-de." [I think this is a frequent line of her daddy's.]

Jacob: [a little distracted, very condescending & adult - sounding]

"Cambria, really we don't say dude, you could say that's very interesting, or you could say i really like that, or wow but don't say dude, okay?"

Cambria:

"Oh, man."

Jacob: [relieved]

"That's much better."

With a brother like that, who needs parents?



In other news, I did this for a birthday party at my house last night - isn't it pretty?! I didn't want to take it down, but the storm last night blew the queen anne's lace all over the front yard, so. . . oh well.