Finish Line ~ The Grace Between

I was elbow deep in greasy dishwater one day this week and letting my eyes wander around this home we’ve made. In the moment, my gaze drifted upward to the music pages wreath perched above our oversized bookshelves with the embroidered “Huggins” slightly askew. photo 1 It occured to me that it was the perfect picture of how I’ve felt over the past eight and a half months. A little off kilter, tipped off my center of gravity and scrambling for level ground.

And the reason I was mostly lost in thought while I scrubbed away two days’ worth of haphazard meals is that soon – VERY soon, this will be finished. 

This – the fear, the worry, the tears, and the “I want my Daddy” heart cries of my wee ones. 

It brings me so. much. joy. to rearrange the spaces in our home to include him. What bedtime looks like with daddy. What breakfast looks like with daddy. What Saturdays look like with daddy. {A whole lot of donuts!} 

There will be boots on the floor, dirty uniforms draped over the chair, empty Diet coke cans NEXT to the trash bin, and I couldn’t be happier. The Husband is almost home …

I am equal parts giddy and panicking. My brain is going just about a million miles a minute these days – I told you previously what I worried about before he left – so here’s what’s keeping me up at night now.

I’m afraid I didn’t do enough, or do it well – parenting, exercise, budgeting, you name it, I am freaking out about it. It’s not always rational, but it’s real.

A very dear friend reminded me to have grace for myself. And to his credit, the Husband laughed in my face (in the most loving way possible, of course) when I mentioned that I still want him to like me – you know the feeling after your second-ish date with someone and you are head over heels and REALLY HOPE he feels the same way. The butterflies, and the sweaty palms, and can’t-stop-thinking-about-him kind of feeling …

He always has grace for me, this Husband o’mine and he loves me so.

And so I have butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him – after nine plus years I am more in love with him today than I was yesterday, and the day before, and all the days before that.

He is my heart and I am so glad it will be whole again soon.  And regardless of whatever arbitrary metric for success or failure I use, I cannot wait to to see him hoist our children over his broad shoulders, and to feel his hands in mine.

All this to say … finish lines are wonderful, and exciting, and scary – pray for us? ~M.

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