It Comes

It comes in unexpected moments. The sun will be rising, and the curtain will be shifted ever so slightly so that a beam of sunlight dances across your face. You'll squeeze your eyes tighter as if you're trying to shut out the sun beams, and I'll be there with my eyes wide open catching it, almost as if catching a secret embrace. God danced across your face, and I got to see.

It comes when fragility, exhaustion, grief washes over and the need to protect, defend, pretend fades away. When weakness becomes the dominant language, and safety comes only with you. It whispers across my spine as my whole being sinks against your chest.

It comes when the sound of giggles, laughter, and silliness waft down the hallway as I'm lost in some mundane event. The glee-filled sound of some little person's voice saying Daddy! Hahaha! You can't get me!!! AH!

It comes when uncertainty and chaos fill every single crevice of our lives. In the midst of the insanity, your fingers intertwine with mine. Unspoken words pour through that connection, and overflow the deafening noise.

It comes when, in the most devastating moment of grief, our sobs and tears, echo through these walls in unison. When eyes are swollen shut, noses are running, and tissues abound.

It comes when we stand side by side, and kneel side by side, on Sunday mornings. When we hold hands in prayer, sometimes in a rushed, agitated plea for quick relief, and some times in immense gratitude crying out Thank You God! Thank You God! Thank You God!

It comes when we walk in to a doctor's office, ready to stand as the unbending platform for our seven year old daughter, as she faces down the demons of cancer possibilities, endless blood tests, and horrible illness. As we sit there and listen to her fate, to our fate, doing our best to be present in the moment.

It comes when we climb in to our car and drop you off to continue the war-fight; separating fingers, embraces, legs-to-legs-on-the-couch.

It comes when I feel so horrendously ugly, and your eyes glance at me from across the room, saying with the most sincerest, truest, and deepest of soul-speak You are beautiful. You are SO beautiful to me.

It comes when changing the nine zillionth diaper, cleaning up the ten thousandth projectile vomit, giving the 6 hundredth dose of medicine/breathing treatments/physical therapy exercises, and the exhaustion drops us to the floor. When people chip in with their thoughtless words, useless "advice", ridiculous marital judgments. It comes when stupidity overwhelms, and life feels nearly lifeless.

Thank you, Chief, for knowing exactly what I'm talking about. I love you more than I could ever begin to say.