Echoes of a Journey

Echoes of a Journey

Feb 15

Lying on my blanket, I feel nothing. My body is numb. I can’t scream, cry, or feel. I still hear the voice of the uniformed grim reaper at my door. “There has been and accident. We’re sorry to inform you that your husband has succumbed to his injury. Please come to the… The words faded into oblivion as my body melted into the cold, dead floor.

Feb 21

I’m in my secret place. No one knows where I am. I’m sitting on top of my favorite dune, between the patches of dune grasses. This is my sanctuary, my peace, my place of close communion with God. Sadly, I don’t feel Him. I know He’s here. Perhaps my heart is missing. “God, show me how I can do this! I’m lost. I’m lonely. Help me? “

I turned my face up to the cloudless sky. A warm wind massages my body, relaxing me. The waves echo a rthymic lullaby that lulls me asleep. I am wrapped in His arms. I feel His presence. I am not alone.

I am His and He is mine.

The day passed with ease and I am going home. I now know for the first time in days that I will be able to sleep.

March 13

I am sitting in my car. Livid winds toss waves onto the shore. Lightening is flashing around me. I really don’t care. It’s exactly how I feel right now.

The bills lay on the desk at home. They won’t release his last pay or talk with me about his insurances. I need a death certificate and tons of other paperwork. I have enough for gas to get to work. I guess I am going to be living on soup and hot dogs. Not that I want to eat anyway. I can’t stop vomiting. This whole tragedy is too much.

I haven’t felt much like writing lately. I’m still blown away by the storm in my life. ”How God can I keep going?”

A gust of wind drew my attention to something moving down the beach. Turning on my headlights, I see a small sandpiper racing in and out of the water. I watch him for a bit because I’m curious why he keeps running into the lake between waves. One misstep or miscalculation, a huge wave will wash him off his stick legs and whisk him away. It is then that I realize he has a small fish in his beak and he runs up on the sand to drop it into a growing pile.

God speaks to my aching heart. I am reminded that as He cares for the birds, He will care and provide for me during my storm. Finally, tears present themselves, washing away the numbness.

April 16

I am still sick. I have a few minutes before my doctor’s appointment. Is it stress, cancer, or something else. Why not? I am a dark character lost in loss. I am sitting at the beach park searching my heart. “God, will I make it through this? How much more God?”

The rolling clouds are black from the horizon to the shoreline. The marine warning has been issued. The warning flag is nearly bent to the sand. I am worried as a small sailboat is struggling to fight winds and waves to get into the safety of the harbor. It’s bouncing off the waves, slamming its crew to the deck.

Suddenly, there is a sliver in the clouds and a ray of sun is shooting through to form a line of sun across the aqua to dark blue drop off. The sailboat’s back half is sitting in the darkness and rain and the front half is in the sun and calm. A small rainbow hangs over the boat.

Again, God speaks to my heart. “I will see you through. I am your fortress and strength. I am your shepherd. Lean on me. I promise, you will come out of your storm.”

Oh no, I have go or I’ll be late. I’m so nauseated that I hope I can get there without vomiting. I have to get there and find out what is wrong with me.

April 16, add on

I am back by the lake, sitting at the launch. Gales are spewing waves over my car in a continuous stream. It’s dark, so I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, a while at least.

I am in shock. I am pregnant! I’m approximately three months. My emotions are all over the place. Danny and I had wanted this so much. We had been trying for a couple of years with no success. We had accepted our fate and given up on that dream. Why? Why now? Why without Danny? It made no sense to me.

I’m joyful, as I know that this is what we had waited so long for. Crying because Danny is not here to celebrate with me. Can I celebrate? Danny is not here to be a part of this. Can I even do this alone too? I don’t know! The butterfly of life flutters in my stomach. This is real!

“Oh God, thank you for this gift. I, I don’t know why now? I don’t see how I can do this alone? Help me God! Help me understand.” Now, my tears are a curtain down my face. Peace covers me.

April 16

I am finishing the events of last night. As I was praising and thanking God for this tiny being, I sensed someone else present. I was drawn to look toward the car next to me. Through the tears flooding my eyes and the sheets of water cascading over the car, I see a man who apparently had been watching my interaction with God. He gave me a small wave and smile. Embarrassed, I smiled, waved back, and drove out of there as fast as I could. Today, it’s actually kind of funny. Some man in town is probably telling everyone about the crazy woman of the storm and waves throwing her hands up and singing. Oh well, my pleasure to provide entertainment.

I have so many thoughts today as I lay my hand protectively over my slightly increasing belly. My emotional soup is a mix of comfort, sadness for loss of Dan, fear of childbearing and childrearing alone, and joy over the tiny being growing inside of me. I am looking forward to the next few months of waiting. One step, one day at a time.

August 10

Well, I’m eight weeks from ground zero. My ankles are swollen and my belly is the size of a giant watermelon. I am protruding forward as my baby is down and waiting for the muscles to start the process. I waddle like “Mother Goose.” I pray my little being arrives soon. My bag is packed and in the trunk with a change of clothes for me, a pretty gown for after, and one boy and one girl outfit. I waited to be surprised by the sex as Danny and I had decided long ago. We had even chosen names. If a girl, she would be Sarah Rose. If a boy, he would be Michael Daniel. I’ve been cramping all night, so not much longer hopefully.

September 4

Well, quick note. My water broke and mom’s driving me in. I’m worried. We are too early.

September 5

I just woke. A tiny voice called for me to feed him, Michael Daniel. As I finished nursing, I hand him to one of his grandmas. Another tiny voice echoed to be fed, Sarah Rose. I nursed her and handed to another one of the grandmas.

It was a complete surprise as Michael was larger and hid his sister through the entire pregnancy. The high numbers caused concern for potential disability for Michael and I prepared for that. I did not prepare for twins. What a surprise! But such a blessing.

Mom has agreed to stay with me and help me with them. Dad passed a couple of years ago and she has the time and desire to be here. This was an answer to her prayers as well as mine. Danny’s mom will come when she can to provide a time out for us.

As both are fed and changed, they squirm and caterpillar crawl to each other, snuggling close and touching the other as in the womb, connected in a special way that only twins can know or experience. I draw in a slow, deep breath of the delicate powdery scent of newborns. My joy is complete. My love overflows.

“Thank you God for bringing us through.”