Coffee crying, rebel hearts & surrender

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{totally nonsensical image, but this struggle-wagon-cry-baby is awfully glad she has superheroes to get her through the wait!)

For most of my life, I’ve held a tiny piece of my heart as mine. I was acutely aware from a very young age that some people who shared some of my experiences became hard from their hurts, and I knew that I didn’t want that. I knew that I wanted to love big and relentlessly, but that kind of love is scary for anyone, especially someone who’s experienced any type of trauma. I somehow landed on a compromise of choosing love, day in and day out, but holding just the tiniest part of my heart back, safe, where I could have it to rebuild if I one day needed to. I know that heartbreak is part of life, and I have experienced my share of it. Protecting just one tiny piece of my heart has allowed me to give the rest without reservation.

The problem is that I met the one that tiny piece of my heart was waiting to belong to, and when I saw her it grew and then I left it there with her and now I am back here in the states and it’s absence is painful and I am not okay. I am, in fact, completely terrified and lovesick like a teenager at the same time. In my waking hours I block all of the “what ifs” but they must find me at night because I wake up every morning full of them and cry into my coffee.

I’ve started listening to my “travel to meet baby Rosie” playlist that I put together before our trip at night before bed, trying to focus on what I know is truth: God is here, He is using this time, He has used all of the days before it, but I have to let Him and stop fighting. There is a song by Lauren Daigle on the list and it opens with: “Lord, I offer up this rebel heart, So stubborn and so restless from the start, I don’t want to fight You anymore, So take this rebel heart and make it Yours” and it’s been on repeat. Henry says it’s his “favowit” because he’s heard it so much. I think this is where we are in the wait. I think it’s time for me to surrender my heart’s safety net.

Be tender with me, friends. Yes, I know this is part of the process and that I signed up for it. Yes, I know there is so much sadness in the world and forever goodbyes and illness and trauma and war and famine and a heroin crisis. I try my best to walk in that with people and I welcome loss and trauma into my home and family and offer all of the rest of my heart to those who need it, but leaving my safety net in Europe was brutally hard when I am standing on a mountain of loss of my own. I know that so many before me have done this and I know that we can, too. My difficulty isn’t the wait… it’s the what ifs, and they are killing me. It’s very easy to say that I should not focus on them, but they are all that I know. Every child who we have tried to bring home has not come home. That is real loss.

My heart was so bruised and glued back together when we saw Rosie’s face, and still we said “yes” and I believe this makes us special. I am proud of us. While well meaning friends are trying to fix me, give me perspective, remind me of ‘bigger’ problems, I offer this if I may: maybe the lesson isn’t that I need to be less emotional, maybe it’s that it’s okay to love with shaking knees. Maybe it’s that sometimes love is scary, but it’s always worth it. Maybe it’s not that I need to suck it up, maybe it’s that I am evolving to be okay with being raw and messy and bruised. Maybe that is what God wants for my heart. Maybe the world needs more coffee-criers… So I am reporting for duty, today and probably the next 120.

 

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