A Spring of Joy

She sat beside me this morning on the swing and we raised our arms high, signing “I love you” to Brian as he drove off to work in his Chevy truck (please pronounce that with a hard “ch” not the soft “sh”. That’s what Brian does to make me laugh, and if y’all feel anything like me these days, you need a laugh). “Double love!” Bella shouted as he drove away, “No, love FOUR times!” Then she curled into me and whispered, “Daddy. I just want Daddy here, too.” We are all feeling it, this need to be together. To grab every moment.

We swung in silence for a while, and I surreptitiously wiped away tears, because my tears make her even more fearful.

I have watched Bri these past few days, and he looks 10 years older to me. But driving away in that big ol’ truck, he also looked so small, so broken. So I cried. Who will wave to him on the porch? If this isn’t curable? Will he have to drive away in the mornings, take the children to school and gaze at an empty house?

I cannot go there. I must not. Dear Lord, please no!? Have mercy on us. Body, soul, mind and spirit. Have mercy? It is all I can pray, all I can beg. For him. For our children. For me.

Last night some of our deacons and their wives came over and sat with us in our pain, listened to us share, and prayed for us. When they asked Bri how they could pray, he sighed.

“Just pray for her. If she’s good. I’m good.” And I sigh with him.

Oh, y’all, how could I ever doubt this man’s deep love for me?

Later that night he woke me after I had fallen asleep on the couch so I could come to bed. I murmured something about just sleeping on the couch. He stood there, over me… “You sure? Why don’t you come to bed?” And I knew. He needed me up there with him. Needed to hold me… to just be together.

My heart is breaking for him, y’all.

Just breaking.

Because y’all, as painful and fearful and terrible as this is for me, it is for him, too.

And just as it is for him. It’s the same for me: If he’s good, I’m good.

So I’m begging you… please don’t forget Bri in all this.

He suffers silently. But he suffers. So much.

(Many of you have asked how we are, what you can do, what we need. I will write a post soon to address this. But just to tell you: We are grateful for your love and your concern and your prayers. As for how we are. We don’t know. We are hurting and grieving and struggling, but we are clinging. That is all we can do right now.)