The kids and I set our hoard of library books on the counter when all of a sudden I hear “Esther! How are you doing? It’s so good to see you!” There she was, that sweet familiar face and smile I’ve seen for years. I first met her from our old Farmer’s Market days in town. She always bought my big fluffy rolls, a jar of jelly and a pie.
I have been breathing borrowed air.
I am no longer who I use to be.
I struggle daily to love like Jesus.
Daily I ask, why did we choose this?
The pain of losing, yet gaining, plays with my soul.
Moment by moment I feel the real struggle; die to self.
My heart has been invaded with the faces of children, who aren’t mine – who haven’t been claimed, by anyone.
We’re asked”why?” “Why would you do this?”
One minute, my heart bursts with exuberant joy.
The next, my heart breaks into millions of pieces, as tears invade my face.
It’s true, my heart has been, disassembled.
I actually blog more, than it appears on your screen. Sometimes I tuck my thoughts and words away for awhile, or just never publish them at all. You see, I’m never sure if I should share something publically or not. And in this case, it was written during a really challenging down time. A couple months of real, raw struggle and pain. I don’t want people to have pity on my struggles, yet I don’t want to hide them – because too often people only see the rosy side of things, and let me tell you — it’s not all sunshine and roses over here. Promise. 😉
