Let's get the obvious out of the way: Today is weird because the lady who birthed me is no longer on this planet. She only celebrated 31 birthdays in my honor. She died on October 10, 2012. And that flat out stinks.
But today hasn't been all smelly.
I spent most of the day in Dallas, working to proofread a magazine. Sounds like a fun killer, you say? Nope, to the contrary, dear reader. The distraction of hunting for misspellings, grammatical mistakes, and out of whack formatting was just what I needed. Coupled with that, the kindness of my twice-a-month coworkers humbled and elated me. I received gifts of homemade chocolate-chip cookies (my fav), two bags of peanut M&Ms (a regular proofreading snack), and the most sophisticated birthday cake I've ever seen: white cake, the real-deal-raspberry filling, and dee-vine cream cheese frosting all nestled in this chic birthday package styling. Such a sweet--literally--gesture.
Along those lines, I've been meaning to tell you . . . .
As I've meandered, well mostly stumbled, through the last two weeks, my soul has been so moved by the kindness of others expressed to my family and me. The calls, voicemails, emails, texts, Facebook posts and messages, visits, cards, food, flowers--the words of condolence and comfort, no matter how eloquent or awkward--have meant. the. world. to. me. It's more than the heartwarming feeling of knowing others care or have acknowledged your pain; it's the mystical power of kindness melting my sadness. Friends, truly, your words have been balm to my aching heart. You've been an extension of God's love. What a mind-boggling joy to know we do not grieve alone.
Although the words
awesome and
amazing are over-used and left almost useless, they are all I can muster to capture God's grace to me in all of this. How in one breath, all the unfixable became fixed. All the brokenness, healed. All I'd hoped and prayed for regarding my mom, He answered. Where there was chaos and lies, immediately truth prevailed. Victory instead of defeat. Love instead of abuse. Mercy instead of sin. Beauty in the midst of her ashes. Such kindness crumbles my doubts, my fears, my regrets. How deep the Father's love for her, for me . . . for you.
And a God who can provides all of that can certainly care for a newly orphaned girl, er, woman through whatever sadness and tragedy flanks her . . . my path.
So with that, here's how my birthday evening wound down: Rocking a sweet Anna Zane asleep in my arms. While her nanny surely wasn't excited about Anna's decision to play in her crib during nap time, her entire nap time, it served as a sweet birthday gift for me. She was asleep in the rocker before we got through a lullaby--a treat that doesn't happen often these days. She's a blessing too magnificent for words.
Ah, the God who loves me, the orphan, who redeems my hurts. What a picture of Him in my daughter's eyes, well, eyelids. She was asleep after all.
"You have said, 'Seek my face.' My heart says to you, 'Your face, LORD, do I seek.' Hide not your face from me. Turn not your servant away in anger, O you who have been my help cast me not off; forsake me not, O God of my salvation! For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the LORD will take me in.
"Teach me your way, O LORD, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies. Give me not up to the will of my adversaries; for false witnesses have risen against me, and they breathe out violence.
"I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living! Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!" -Psalm 27:8-14