Turning the page

Last night as I climbed into bed and throughout the night as I woke and went back to sleep I had to fight feelings of panic on this monumental day. We’ve done life together in this house, learning our new normal for 8 months. And today it is coming to an end.

It’s not that we will never be together again under this roof, sharing meals and playing games, making messes and cleaning them up, finding solace in solitude and welcoming people through the doors. There might still be some weeks or even months that we share this space again, but never in quite the same way.

This change was coming even before the accident. This part of the story is not new. So, I try to remind myself that is day was going to happen anyway.

There is an odd calm about it. It is time. It needs to happen. There are new adventures for Josh and for Sam that need to be had far from here. And they are embracing that. And it is so good. And I pray for new levels of healing to happen as they walk into what is next.

Because there is next. We can’t have next and now at the same time. So we walk into this new season. And I remind myself to breathe deeply. It is a big deal. It is a big day. It was always going to be so. And I do not have to face it without hope or comfort, though I am the one who needs to walk it alone. But it doesn’t have to be a lonely alone, though I acknowledge there are moments when that is how I feel.  Intensely so. But my feelings do not determine reality and I will fiercely cling to Jesus and hold Him to His word that He will never leave or forsake.

Today I will preach the Gospel to myself again. I am fully known and deeply loved by the Creator of the universe who has made a way for me to have intimate communion with Himself. Provision has been made for my sin and failure to be paid for and what is astounding is that redemption and restoration are possible because the debt was paid and then death and destruction conquered with the resurrection. It is so hard not being able to see it all now. So by faith I walk, crawl, am carried in the not yet.

Today I will picture myself held as many times as I remember. I will be present where I am. I will take the pain to Jesus. I will look forward in hopeful anticipation of this next season and of the ultimate Day. And in the moments when I don’t, or I can’t, I will be where I am and trust that the Lord will lift my eyes in the way only He can.

10 thoughts on “Turning the page

  1. “You can’t have now and next at the same time” well said. I have felt those same feelings of panic and pain although strangely it was when I was in Italy for my sabbatical last month not here in Portland. I guess Italy is where so many beautiful memories are and we won’t ever be there in the same way together. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Julie,
    Thank you. Your words minister to me.
    Since Joe’s death, I too have to hold fiercely and preach to myself the good news.
    God leads us and loves us! Praise the Lord!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ah Julie ~ you once again inspire me and move me to worship as I read your words! I am praying for you and Sam this week and for Josh and Lindsay, of course! Grief and hope collide at the feet of Jesus. Hugs to you as you walk with Jesus through each day!

    Liked by 1 person

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