It never ceases to amaze me how something can utterly blow up in your world and yet, life goes on.
The job you depended on for every penny is suddenly gone.
An entire new person has been born into your family.
You lost your house.
A loved one has died.
Disaster has struck.
The diagnosis wasn’t good.
And tomorrow, someone has to wake up and make pancakes. And the day after that, the trash still has to be put on the curb. And the following Tuesday is your nephew’s birthday, so you need to hit Amazon and make sure that the blocks you had planned on buying him are eligible for Prime.
Also, the sun is still coming up. And gravity is still in effect. And, dagnabbit all …God is still keeping mum on why in the world you can’t have things back to normal. The old normal. Because frankly, this new normal sucks.
Simon was just seven weeks old when my grandfather–the very sinew of my heart in many respects–passed away. Prior to his death, we had wondered at God’s timing for this child’s arrival into our family. We were busy, life was full, the calendar showed no room for a tiny little addition like a baby. And yet, there he was. Right smack dab at the end of the year, riveting our eyes and filling a spot we hadn’t known was empty. When Papaw passed, it all came clear: Simon was born right then, right there, because it is impossible to surrender to grief or to drown in sorrow when you are constantly being pulled back to the tangible of washing diapers, the weight of a newborn on your chest, the hungry cry in the middle of the night that you and only you can answer.
Simon arrived when he did because God was reminding us that life goes on. That the new thing is never done. That the world does not stop and take a breath just because you need rest.
That even in the midst of being undone, you are being remade.
Life goes on. Indeed.
I simultaneously love and hate God’s timing in my life. 🙂
I agree with Bethany! We found out we were expecting our first child, kept it to ourselves because my mother had made it quite clear she did not want to be a grandmother (despite the fact that we had been married a year and had our own plans – hehe). When we miscarried, I could not understand why, but a week later my mother left my dad and moved away and I haven’t spoken to her since. God’s timing, even in the painful things was perfect because I don’t think I ate for a week between feeling like my very foundation had been ripped away, and still dealing with the after-effects of miscarrying. I was not taking care of myself, and would have had tons of mommy guilt over not taking care of my baby even though I felt like I was drowning. God was good and gave us our oldest (earth-side) child 11 months later, and we could truly enjoy every moment of my pregnancy. He allowed me time to grieve before giving my a new thing to be glad over.