Broken
It's 3 am and I should be sleeping...and here I am, clearly not.
I had an amazing Christmas Eve/Christmas Day and I have so much to be grateful for. I've been so very blessed. And this will all get it's traditional-for-me end of year reflective post.
But right now I'm feeling a bit broken and melancholy and need to acknowledge and validate those feelings too.
I am very grateful to my ex and especially to his gf (let's face it, we all know she does all the real work, I lived with him for a long time, I know the score) for making it work out that we all got some time with the boys for the holiday.
But every time I drop them off, I break just a little bit more.
I put on a good face, and I'm much stronger than I used to be, but I still break.
My arms ache to hold them, I long to hear them whispering when they're supposed to be sleeping. I would give up all the trivia nights, karaoke nights and bubble baths to have them in my care, in my home, everyday and not just three weekends a month.
I know that being a good mother means sacrificing, often, for her children. I also know that they're not *really* mine - they belong to God. And He's got them in His hands, has a plan for them - for all of us - and that I only get to borrow them anyway.
I absolutely trust Him and His plan. I have faith that this will all get easier (for lack of a better word) and will work out. I have faith that they'll be in my custody more in the future, that this is not a permanent situation. I really, honestly do. I know that it's all in His time and that I just need to be patient.
Doesn't mean I have to (or do) like it. I accept it, I trust it, but I certainly don't like it.
I sat tonight watching the snow fall quietly on the street outside, listening to my Celtic Christmas music (funny side note, I started a fic a lot like this once), thinking. Praying. Believing in His plan for us. Crying. Aching.
I know there will be resolution. I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I just wish it was a little bigger and brighter or that I'd get there a little faster.
I keep on keeping on, praising Him in the storm and trusting in Him. And 98% of the time these days it's enough.
That 2%, though, is rough.
His anger lasts only a moment, but his kindness lasts for a lifetime. Crying may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
Psalms 30:5
I had an amazing Christmas Eve/Christmas Day and I have so much to be grateful for. I've been so very blessed. And this will all get it's traditional-for-me end of year reflective post.
But right now I'm feeling a bit broken and melancholy and need to acknowledge and validate those feelings too.
I am very grateful to my ex and especially to his gf (let's face it, we all know she does all the real work, I lived with him for a long time, I know the score) for making it work out that we all got some time with the boys for the holiday.
But every time I drop them off, I break just a little bit more.
I put on a good face, and I'm much stronger than I used to be, but I still break.
My arms ache to hold them, I long to hear them whispering when they're supposed to be sleeping. I would give up all the trivia nights, karaoke nights and bubble baths to have them in my care, in my home, everyday and not just three weekends a month.
I know that being a good mother means sacrificing, often, for her children. I also know that they're not *really* mine - they belong to God. And He's got them in His hands, has a plan for them - for all of us - and that I only get to borrow them anyway.
I absolutely trust Him and His plan. I have faith that this will all get easier (for lack of a better word) and will work out. I have faith that they'll be in my custody more in the future, that this is not a permanent situation. I really, honestly do. I know that it's all in His time and that I just need to be patient.
Doesn't mean I have to (or do) like it. I accept it, I trust it, but I certainly don't like it.
I sat tonight watching the snow fall quietly on the street outside, listening to my Celtic Christmas music (funny side note, I started a fic a lot like this once), thinking. Praying. Believing in His plan for us. Crying. Aching.
I know there will be resolution. I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I just wish it was a little bigger and brighter or that I'd get there a little faster.
I keep on keeping on, praising Him in the storm and trusting in Him. And 98% of the time these days it's enough.
That 2%, though, is rough.
His anger lasts only a moment, but his kindness lasts for a lifetime. Crying may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
Psalms 30:5