stilts and stones

 This Saturday Elisa came. Drove in from Atlanta, met the three girls the Lord brought us in 2022, saw the house, whatever. Bounced the baby, walked the neighborhood, played the games, read the books, folded the clothes, and even wrangled a good full-out tantrum, swept up two broken glasses and sat with me at church. 

Heard the phone calls as Dad goes from staph infection treatments to cancer treatments to trouble breathing to 2 liters of fluid around each lung, more brutal side effects of advanced stages of cancer. Sat up late with me. Got more Kleenex. Asked. Listened. Cried. Walked. Sat some more.

Took over for a few hours today when I finally finally couldn't do it any any more.

All the dreaded phone calls and all the impossible conversations are awful.

Seeing her off this evening just about did me back in, because I dearly needed support and I dearly needed solid, and she came and was, my stilts and stones.

No matter how heavy this season has been, the Lord has been gracious in friends offering and helping, random food being dropped off that has been just a weight lifted, in people praying, in friends taking a kiddo here or there, washing some clothes or offering some help. Being a blessing. Sharon has come. Shelley has come. My sister came. Elisa. He has been gracious by giving me so many praying people, holding me up, keeping me grounded. 

My sister is freed up to go Wednesday. I am freed up Friday and will head there. I am praying His mercy in these patched together stabs at timing and ridiculous human plans, all for one last chance to say the same things we've already all said a million times the last 40 years. 

In my saddest puddle moments, I try to stew over all the heart wrenching, despairing things...my dad doesn't deserve to die awful and young like this....now we're going to be alone...what in the world are we going to do now...we are so alone in this...who is going to help me?...now I'll have no parents...my kids are losing the last of my side...Emma won't even KNOW Grandpa OR Grandma...why?? and on and on.

But useless the lies and questions are.

They only invoke pity, which is never godly or God-honoring, and they put on my father far more than is possibly fair or true. It's all broke, and death, it comes...I have never once, never once been alone, never once without His tender care, never once motherless or fatherless, He will never fail my children nor my sister nor her children nor my brother nor my father and He did not fail my mom...and I will carry them all my days.

I have two parents who loved me and loved the Lord and shepherded us and modeled for us WELL, both of whom will be with Him in no pain for all of eternity.

I wish I could erase all this heartbreak with the richness, unmerited grace and power of these sacred facts.

Tomorrow Nora and I meet with the surgeon to get her main surgery charted out and on the books, Friday family friends are graciously adding four kiddos to their lake house for MLK weekend, and Matt is wrangling two for the weekend while Emma and I go.

I am so thankful for you, my stilts and stones. Part of Him NEVER leaving me alone is you.

In sweet news, Emmaus had their first day of class in Haiti today in over four months, and there was great rejoicing on my favorite corner of my favorite island.