Although
I can absolutely say that we have been enjoying the heck out of being
back home and that there has been a lot of that stuff going on –
like kite flying, first-time fishing (for Hannah), campfires, and
family – there is also an awful lot of fatigue and stress that
comes along with a big move, so there has been some of that as well.
For starters, our former house needs to get rented out ASAP and
terrible pestilences need to quit plaguing our household...but I try
to remind myself daily that these are mere inconveniences in the
scheme of things, especially when I take into consideration all the
things in our life right now that are so good.
Sure,
there's no Chipotle, and milk costs an arm and a leg. And yes, we're
back in the south and I've already had to try to break Hannah of
adding extra syllables to her words ("Mama, can I have a
SNA-YICK?"). But nothing can
ever take away from what I've gained.
On
our first night here I slept better than I have in months, maybe even
years. I wondered why... Is this neighborhood quieter? Is it because
the dog wasn't in our room? Is it because the kids' room is further
away, and I can't hear every tiny moan and sigh anymore?
Perhaps
it's some of that, or maybe even all of it, but I also believe that
being here has ignited a spark of contentment that had burned out at
some point a while back. I think I was too busy and distracted to
notice, but being 1300 miles away from where your heart is does take
its toll.
For
Valentine's Day Hannah's preschool class at church made paper heart
cut-outs, and she carried hers around proudly...until she laid it
down somewhere and couldn't find it. She was quite sad about it, for
a while, but eventually she accepted its absence, as we so often do
when we lose our hearts. There's always enough to keep us distracted.
Then
after church one evening, she ran up to me with the long-lost
treasure in her hand.
“Mama!
I found my heart!”
What
joy it brings us to find it again. I know so completely how it feels.
Our heart gets lost in the shuffle along the way, many times, and we
use our distractions to make us forget. But when we stumble across it
again, we're reminded of why we missed it so much in the first place.
We're reminded of why taking care of it matters so much.
Of
course, afterwards we went to Kroger where she promptly lost her
little paper heart again, and I fear this time it shall never be
found. Good thing this is just a metaphor and pretzels are a handy
distraction.
But
I'm just thankful to feel it again – that sense of wholeness, of
being complete. The knowing that my heart is right where it belongs
and that I have the tools to find it again if ever it becomes lost.
There
are plenty of other precious things that can get lost when I lose
sight of my heart...my patience, my temper, my joy...and that's why
I've got to hold on tight. I've got to give my heart the nourishment
it needs...love, faith, hope. It's the well from which all that
purposeful, intentional living that I desire can spring forth.
I
see a lot of 'losing heart' going on these days, and all I can say
is, maybe we're meant to find it in each other. I wish we always had
the courage to share ourselves in those real, raw, uninhibited
moments that are so rare, when we connect with another human being so
deeply that we say, “There! There is my heart. I've found it
because it's the same as yours.”
We
need more of that. We need more of the hope that we find in each
other. Perhaps the greatest lesson we will ever learn is how to share our
little paper hearts.
