Rollercoaster

I got to the mall early this morning. Not on purpose, but because I just went straight from dropping off Little Man at preschool in the hopes that I could run into one store, buy the shoes I need and leave as fast as possible. But I was early. Way early. Early enough to see more seniors walking than store keepers. So I found an empty seat at a table near the Caribou Coffee kiosk and opened a book I always keep in my purse to pass the time. The book is called A Travel Guide To Heaven. I like it. The author uses the Bible, theology, and his imagination to paint a wildly fun and exciting picture of what Heaven may be like. It makes me feel closer to Jameson. It helps me to picture where he is and what he may be up to right now. It gets me excited about getting there myself. But it also makes me sad. It doesn't take the hurt away, it doesn't fill the hole, and it doesn't stop the longing. Which leads into how I found myself sitting alone at a table for two in the middle of the now open mall with puffy eyes and tears streaming down my cheeks. *awesome* At least I didn't run into anyone I know.

It isn't just the book; the ups and downs of this journey, of this life sometimes happen so fast and without warning. And the silliest things can have me reeling or laughing. Thinking about Jameson riding a real, live T-Rex in Heaven makes me beam with joy. Finding a St Patrick's Day pin in my car that says "World's Cutest Leprechaun" feels like someone injected ice into my veins. Spending time at a museum with Little Man is so much fun; realizing that traveling anywhere- the grocery store, Target, restaurants, the mall- is so easy because I only have one child breaks my heart wide open every.time.we.travel.

Some days it feels so easy and I'm okay with it. I can miss him without any hurt. I can look at his pictures and smile. I know that this separation is temporary and someday soon we will be together and then forever. Some days I can even think of it as a gift; God is letting me keep my baby as a baby for all of eternity and isn't that an amazing gift? But as good and easy as those days are, there are the other days. The days when I just don't know how to go on. When the hole in my heart feels like it is about to swallow me whole and the tears flow like rain and the dinner won't get cooked and the clothes won't get washed and the child will watch TV because Mom is a frozen puddle who can't thaw, move, breathe.

I am trying desperately to be thankful for the good days and also for the bad days. Especially for the bad days. Just this morning I read this quote in my morning devotional: "Desperate dependence is the place where we can stop living by our own power." -Max Davis The bad days are when I most rely on Him. When I most need Him. When I most seek Him. And isn't that a gift?