A long time ago, I must have lived in a high rise apartment. I must have had lead feet, a size 15 shoe, and worked in steal-toed boots. I had no consideration for the people below me as I kicked of those boots and let them descend abruptly to the floor. I then rocked in my squeaky Lazy Boy and snored myself to sleep. Another scenario is that I was the one whom lived in the bottom floor apartment. I listened every night, and jumped with every thud. I made a deal with anyone listening that I would give anything for the noises to stop. They did. I was so elated that I threw my own shoes in the air like confetti, and smiled even though they never fell back down to earth....until the next life.
The first shoe fell when I lost my husband, The next dropped when my mother passed. Nick and I lost a child, Levi was hospitalized, and smaller and lighter shoes fell in between and so on.
I never write these personal sob story because I think that the shoes that fall in my life are heavier than anyone else's. I write because it helps me pick them up and place them in their appropriate homes. Recently it seems as though a steady rain of ballet slippers is falling on my shoulders. Although they are lighter than the combat boots that have fallen before them, when they are thick and frequent like this, they feel as heavy as bowling balls.
For those of you that know and love me, you know that I sometimes write at a time when I feel most vulnerable. I write in hopes that my warriors of the Lord will not see this as a cry for attention but a cry for prayers, and gladly lift me up to Him. For the "judgy" few that are reading this, know that I am aware of my blessings. I have a home, a husband, a job with income, and two AMAZING children that make my heart feel as though it is going to spontaneously combust when they smile at me. Family- my own and my husband's who will (and have) give the shirt directly off their back for us. Friends- How do I even begin to express the gratitude and appreciation for my friends? I don't deserve them, I really don't. I get it, and I thank the Lord every day for these blessings.
BUT FOR TONIGHT- I write this in the dark (by choice, not because the electric has been shut off, that will be the next shoe), in the sweltering heat (NOT BY CHOICE, but because our AC unit took a dump yesterday), 2 Blue Moons in because I need a little help sleeping these days, and about a half a minute away from my second meltdown in 24 hours.
Allyson calls me by my new appointed name, "The Tested One", Jill says I am a Lion, The Friend calls me a Phoenix, Heidi says, "life shouldn't be this hard", J calls me "Sissy" and it doesn't get any better than that. Right now, I am calling on you to pray, and I am calling it a night.
Good night hard as shit life, but you better believe I will be thanking God for the opportunity to face another day tomorrow and another after that.
