Last week I cried so much that my husband had to come home from work in his lunchbreak to help me calm down and breathe. He just came in and sat me on the couch and held onto me for as long as he could before disappearing back to his office job; like some giant, beautiful man-fairy in dress pants and a motorcycle jacket.
Last week I received some of the best news ever. My heart was busting with excitement and I called him and he said, “I’m so proud of you, babe.” I happy danced around the carpark of Dome café.
Last week my temper boiled over as I discovered the mess the kids had made in my study. That same day I sat in the sunshine with my closest friend and thanked God for her.
I went to school. I high fived myself for getting a good mark on an assignment. I went to work and felt guilty that I cut corners. I led worship at my church. I went to church with my mum and shed a tear for her church family. I cleaned my house. I turned my back and it was a mess again.
I mummed my four kids. I went to a rehearsal. I took my daughters to Build-a-Bear. I skyped my sister in Thailand.
Life has been tough lately. I have been sad and hurt and lonely.
But I am resilient. I am strong and brave. I am loved. And I have this deep down flicker of a flame called joy. Sometimes it’s barely burning but it’s never snuffed out.
We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain… Hebrews 6:19