Thursday, September 8, 2011

Sometimes, the dam just breaks...

This morning, I took the kids to Grandma Ardys's house and turned down a subbing position so that I could have some much-needed me-time.

My plan was to listen to some great music and work on some sewing projects I've been wanting to get to.  My time started out rather well, except that, every now and then, I had to fight back the tears that sprang into my eyes and stop singing along so the lump in my throat could pass.

I took a break from sewing to check the next step in the online tutorial I was following, but instead, I read this heart-wrenching piece from Sarah over at Emerging Mummy, then I sat at my dining room table and sobbed.

As I sat in my chair, face in my hands, weeping from my depths and pleading Jesus, please, just please help, at first I could only see the images Sarah mentioned: the lost little boy, the hungry babies, the desperate mothers.... Those are images I see a lot, when I fall into seeing the dark things of the world, quickly followed by my own children's faces bent under suffering, hurting with pains I am helpless to relieve.

Then I thought of the boy in my class who lost control yesterday and lashed out at everyone because some other boys kept calling him a faggot and a homo, and about how, when I tried to talk to the boy about it, his tone was defiant but he couldn't even look at me as we talked.

Then I thought about my mother, and what a fun mom she was when I was little, and how beautiful she was, and how she worked so hard to keep wherever we lived in the best possible condition, and how she did her best to teach me how to be a decent person.  Now, after so many years of being beat down by life, she is just a shell of that person, one who has given up and decided to let the mental illness and despair have their way.  And I miss my mom, and I grieve that her grandchildren will never know her as I knew her.

And my brother, too, lives a hard life, chock full of injustice and rejection and pain.

And in my adopted family, my brother and sister-in-law buried their baby daughter just over a year ago.

And our country's government is broken, broken, broken, and our leaders are showing no discernible signs of getting their shit together enough to fix anything.

And sometimes, I just have to close my eyes against all this stuff that weighs on me, but today I guess it just couldn't stay hidden anymore.

Thank God for that 10 minutes of horrible, undignified sobbing (and a text message full of love from a dear friend).  I can't help but feel that Jesus heard everything my soul needed to say.  Now I can breathe again, and I can remember His presence here with me and with us all, and I can remember that He is enough.

No comments:

Post a Comment