New Light

Wednesday, May 28, 2014 Posted by Katie

It was a dark and stormy night…

...no really! Seriously it was! Thunder, heavy rain, lightning, and two little Pickard boys who ran into my room and under my covers at please-don’t-tell-me-what-time-it-is-o’clock. But it was nice. I was pelted with “cuddles” including “Baby Bear”, “Puppy”, Kermit, and a couple of plush Angry Birds. And then, after the kiddos clambered up into my bed, I got to snuggle with my sweet boys who begged me to tuck them in, put my arms around them, and hold them. (As if I needed to be begged!)

It was an absolutely lovely way to begin an absolutely dreary day.

It was so dark this morning, when it should have been light, that I stopped to open my bedroom shades a bit before I left for work. This has been my habit for many years. It is a little show of consideration and care for my dog, Moses, whose bed is right underneath those windows, so that he won’t have to lie in the dark all day.

Only my Moses isn't there anymore. He died on Good Friday. There is even a chair where his bed used to be. Yet there I was, halfway to the windows, before this occurred to me. I opened the shades anyway, for no one in particular, and walked out with a sigh. Light is light, I suppose.

This is part of my new life. I am still finding it challenging to adjust to all the newness that 2014 has brought me.

I often pass by my niece’s picture and think, “I ought to call her.” This is regardless of the fact that a hand-sewn antique Pickard handkerchief sits next to her picture, reminding me of the day we laid her to rest in January. I still have her number in my phone.

My grandfather’s recent passing still does not feel real to me, nor does the fact that I am fresh out of grandparents for the first time in my life. His chair sits where Moses’ bed used to be.

My dear husband’s voice is altered just enough that occasionally, in the course of regular conversation, I am reminded that his voice’s new resonance was created just a few short months ago in the absence of a cancerous tumor. I took him on a surprise “bucket list” trip to Colorado recently because I have likewise been reminded that tomorrows are not guaranteed.

As I reflect on the “newness” of life with my Daily Fast Fuel gals, these are the things that come to mind. In many ways, it has been a dark year. But there has been light too, and grace. I have felt unimaginable, unexplainable strength this year.

Just when I feel I cannot answer “When is Becca/Moses/Paw coming back from heaven?” one more time, someone else steps in and helps me explain this, again, to my three-year-old. Just when the pang of remembrance hits me, I am blessed with a belly laugh at some silly craziness of life. And just when I start to beat up on myself for finding it difficult to get out of bed each day, summer arrives. With summer comes no preschool drop-off, and long, lazy morning snuggles with my boys. Grace upon grace. Even and in spite of the storm raging upon us.

It is as if God is opening the shades for me each day, to let a little light in. It is a gesture of simple consideration so that I won’t have to spend my days in darkness.

New light for a new life.

I am grateful.

“There is no pit so deep, that God’s love is not deeper still.” - Corrie ten Boom