First Holiday Alone

My emotions today have run the gamut. I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even swore the F word. I sobbed in the deepest of heart ache, was as angry as angry could be and I genuinely laughed out loud. I felt vulnerable and fearful and shared those thoughts with others, and experienced love. I felt the pain of my immediate family being blown to bits, and yet experienced the wonderful security of being a part of a larger family. I am completely spent at the end of my day, but I can sit here and say I completely experienced every piece and part of my day and will go to bed tonight and sleep peacefully.

I was a little caught unaware this morning about how emotional my first holiday alone was for me.

First there was trying to get myself and two children ready to leave the house and attend church on time. OK – even when you have 2 adults trying to help get everyone out of the house on time for church it is hard. I just need to admit that it is practically impossible as a single parent.

I desperately wanted to go to church this morning. I so needed to stand in the midst of a group of people and worship the Lord. Most Sundays since this has happened I go to church, I start to worship, and I stand there in the back row, hands raised, singing my heart out, with tears streaming down my face. I close my eyes, grateful that for the most part I know the words to the songs, for I do not want to look around and see anyone’s reaction. Most there have no idea what I am going through in my life, and I need this time with God and so I don’t want to open my eyes and censor myself based on the look of their faces.

Did you notice that I said ‘in the last row’? Well when we did finally make it today we were a half hour late. On Easter Sunday. Yeah - no last row today. And, the crying had already being going on for an hour before I even could get to the church. Which means that people in the foyer stopped me to hug me on my way into the sanctuary leaving my darling 5 year olds to choose the seats. The front half of our church the rows face each other. The last half of our church the rows face the front. We were smack dab in the center so everyone could see. I didn’t care. I was not there for one other person accept for me and my Lord. So, I walked in with my head held high, tears streaming down my face, found my seat, closed my eyes, raised my hands and sang to my Lord and poured it all out to him in every way I could.

Something happens in those moments. It is an incredible healing time for me. There is something about standing there in complete pain – and my pain being exposed to everyone around me who can see the tears streaming down my face. And yet there I am raising my hands, and singing about what an awesome God I have. It is a mingling of pain and faith, heartache and love, destruction and hope, woundedness and healing. It is such a public display, and yet such an intimate moment between me and my God. I’m not sure that any of the words I just wrote even begin to describe it.

One song. It was all I was able to make being so late. And yet it was all that I needed. It was that one song that I had desperately fought all morning to get to. And God did all that I needed in that one song. And that is the miraculousness of God. I knew I could only stay for a short part of the sermon and it didn’t matter. The unbelievable peace that God gave me in that one song was everything I needed to go forward with my day. And that is exactly what I did.

Be blessed on this day that Jesus rose again for me. Well and for you too. But I am so thankful He did it for me.

K