They Tore Out My Heart and Stomped That Sucker Flat

That is how I felt today.

I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn’t comprehend how overwhelming it would be. 

This morning, our oldest daughter Beth, her husband Gary, and our grandbaby Maggie, strapped in her carseat and waving like crazy, backed down our driveway to move to Cleveland.   The reality of it hit us like a cold, icy, February Chicago snowball and we cried-- a lot.  Their absence is not yet ten hours old, and I haven’t even touched the bottom of it yet.  “Turn around,” I wanted to text them this afternoon.   I won’t ever again see a bird at the feeder or a squirrel in our yard without thinking about Maggie.  Tomorrow is Wednesday.  Beth is not going to Bible study, and Maggie won’t be coming over to play.  Everything in me says don’t be such a baby about this, but I can’t help it.  There have been too many goodbyes.  

We rejoiced fifteen months ago when God engineered our move here to live just three miles from them.  When  Beth and Gary announced that they were moving out-of-state, it was not what we had in mind.  It was another one of those times when God kept asking me, “Can you trust Me in this?”  I know that just because it doesn’t make sense to me doesn’t mean that there isn’t an amazing divine reason for what is happening.  But oh, there were moments today when I thought that I couldn’t breathe.

Last Friday morning before the packing frenzy began, Beth came over at 7 am with Maggie to have breakfast.  Beth brought some donuts, I made the coffee, and Maggie supplied the laughter.  And while we were eating and talking, I was reminded of an experience 24 years ago when Beth started kindergarten.  As I stood on the sidewalk outside the school with tears streaming down my face, my very wise husband told me, “The letting go starts right now.”

Well, today we reached the Super Bowl of letting go.  And in the midst of my tears while I was picking up the all-too-silent playroom, God reminded me again that there is no better place for them to be than the center of His Will. 

“Trust Me,” God tells me in His Word.   He is the God who heals and redeems and restores beyond all that we can ask or even imagine.

LORD, all my longing is known to You,

my sighing is not hidden from You.

My heart throbs, my strength fails me,

and the light of my eyes – it has also gone from me.

…But for You, O LORD, do I wait;

it is You, O LORD my God, who will answer.

                                  Psalm 38. 9-10, 15