It’s a little surreal to be sitting here, calm, at peace, rested, and most of all lonely on July 5. For so long I feel like summers were a time that I was forced to unplug from all relationships and focus on the ones that I was paid to have. How sick is that? It makes me a little sick. A little nostalgic. And a lot lost. This summer is mine. and I have no idea in the whole, big, wide world what to do with myself. none.
I cried last week. Like, I cried tears that didn’t taste so sweet. No, these tears tasted of pain, the closest thing to regret, the smallest bit of assurance, and the strongest part of realism.
I miss my kids. That doesn’t type out justice. I’m longing for my kids. Really, REALLY longing for early mornings after late night bed time talks at camp. Yearning to see growth and Spirit-filled tears on a mission trip (p.s I don’t even like mission trips). There’s a great hunger upon me to hike to the top of a mountain to view God’s creation with some of His most cherished creations, to play red light green light into the dark as we are bitten by 10000 mosquitos, to have shaving cream smashed into my ears, to smell b.o. seeping through axe body spray, and to hear laughter amidst 12 year old boys and girls as I’m farted on. There’s a wistful smile I wear as I reminisce Jesus winning the hearts of His beloveds, using me and an unbreakable team. And I realize, I just really want my kids. I just really need my kids.
Two days ago, I had the privilege to celebrate a special moment with a former student. HE GOT HIS BRACES OFF! So we went to lunch to celebrate. And as we sat there, I saw this
boy man. This honorable man, with a heart that has grown for Jesus and I swear, he couldn’t love or live for Him more if he tried. My Noah. A miracle child. A cancer survivor, but not just a miracle because of that. A miracle because he brings happiness to my heart–always, especially when I need it most. He still talks to me, he still trusts me, and he STILL is growing because of me (I like to think so at least).
We sat as I heard about his trip to Guatemala. We sat as he expressed deep, spiritual thoughts. We sat as I shared what little wisdom I think I have left. And we sat as this miracle reminded of what I love, what I still feel a small part of me was made to do. To be there for him. For them.
So I’m having fun with this man I feel like I need to say this is a different man than Noah…I don’t want to get arrested here. I’m calling him my boy fun because we’re having lots of fun, take me back to high school type of fun. Last week, after my tears, we went for a hike. and I was wired. He blamed it on the coffee. Until I realized, oh snap! This is me when I’ve seen my kids. The me that takes 3 hours to come off of a high that’s been missing for far too long. And he noticed me in my element. Damn was that good. Damn did that feel superiorly good.
I asked him how he could tell a difference in me when I’m talking about my kids. “You light up.” Three best words I’ve ever heard at least in that moment. And I’ve missed lighting up. I’ve missed it so, SO badly. It’s just who I am.
It’s been four months since I left my job at the church, since I “was called” out of something I love. Guess what peoples, I still love it. And the more I’m around it, the more I realize I’m still called to it. So sit. wait. watch. BEHOLD HIM. God isn’t finished with me yet…