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on the edge

This is where I exist most of the time now.  Teetering precariously between hope and devastation.

Most days I am hopeful.  I would be lying if I didn’t recognize the fact that sometimes this hope is merely optimistic denial, but more often than not takes the form of peace and rest.  A peace that God is at work in my life and in the life of that sweet baby boy.  And a rest that I can find from knowing that not even one ounce of my worry and stress will change things.  I’m not sure where this journey will take me, but I have to believe that whatever happens, God will use it for good. . . but boy, does it make for some awkward conversations.

In Auburn right now there is a great time of reunions.  Sweet friends are moving back-some for school, some for life, some just because.  I ran into one such friend at church this afternoon and she excitedly asked, “AHHHH!!! How’s the baby!!??**”  My heart dropped, she doesn’t know.  Dang.  Breathe.  Blink.  Deep breath.  And now for the awkward and mechanical relaying of the story.  Awkward because I don’t know how not to be awkward when I’m telling someone for the first time and mechanical so I don’t burst into tears.  She cried for me this time.  I saved my tears for later.

A dotcomrade said it well a few weeks ago when he wrote about a difficult time in his life and summed it up  by saying, “So that happened.”  This phrase isn’t a minimization of the event, but rather a recognition that this is the way life goes sometimes.  It’s a journey, a process, a story.  This is my story.