Finding Space to Thaw

A random trip to Minneapolis never sounded so good. My girl friend Sally lives in this city that I’ve never been too. It’s been about six years since I’ve seen the face of my beautiful friend, who cares for the world through her love of horses among a long line of other accolades. We met the same summer I met my husband, the same summer that we all remember as some of the best days of our lives. We knew it then and we REALLY know it now. That summer held some sacred ground. Cities and jobs and spouses and three kids on my end have kept us a part, but our spirits were joined way back when and it seems as if they will always be to at least some extent. I believe I’ll see her face, both of us a little more worn than when we were 18 and 19, but I imagine her eyes hold a lot more fire. My eyes have been wearing defeat for too long and my babies, my husband, my own soul needs to be reminded of what power, what tenderness I hold. 

Our family got home last night from a visit with our in-laws, so this morning, in an attempt to leave my sweet hearts in a little better version than a house explosion with dirty laundry and floors and dishes, I was frazzled. My trying was met with lots of needy voices and to-do lists that were also calling my name. After I blew up and said things my brain was wishing I wasn’t saying I went and found a corner upstairs to hide in. Deep breaths, Jesus help me, I’m going to be on a plane in 4 hours, peace, almost there, leave well, deep breaths, hands over my ears, Jesus, Jesus, deep breaths, amen. 

The afternoon went by, we loaded into the van, finally on the verge of escape and I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to look at their beautiful eyes and go away from those same eyes. I didn’t want to be excited to leave anymore. I just wanted a family dog pile. I wanted mothering not to be so hard. 

So we said goodbye and I was the one who was closest to tears, but I walked through those automatic doors into the airport and I’m thawing. The ice around my fragile heart is melting as I breathe in the quiet. The airport, the people, the process, none of it hinges on me. I am one of the masses here, mostly able to take care of myself and I feel life differently. I will be ready to join my family at the end of this hurrah, but the hours a head of me, to remember me, to call out to God in a different space are necessary to love more fully. I need to remember I matter, so that I can live in a way that inspires my crew. I want to know my heart, so that I can know theirs too. 


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