Wednesday, August 14, 2013


I'm torn.

I want to unload. To bawl out all of the latest mega meltdown and tell you how much it hurts to watch him beat himself.

I want to tell you how all I did was tie one shoe and try to tell him I didn't need to re-tie the other one because it was still tied.

I'm tempted to tell you about how shocking it was that he spun so fast and hard out of control after such a great day.

I'm weary. From being shouted at, from watching him hurt himself while staring me in the eye.  From looking for that line in the sand... and making mistakes.

It's another night that I stand here with my heart aching while he's turned on a dime and is just fine all of a sudden.

Yet another time that I could reach through the terrified confusion, grab him, and rescue him.  To pull him through the brambles and tangles of whatever has him captive.

I want to type and let the pain run down my face, stopping only to look for the bright spots.  Because there are bright spots.  But Eric is home for the first time since Sunday, he'll be out again all day tomorrow, and I want to spend time with him.  

So I'm going to reach through the ache to the bright spots.  And you're gonna help me.  Ready?

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. ~Romans 8:28

Through the worst, the best, and the in between, I pray that I'll always say... thanks be to God. 

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