The Promise

We are in the process of building a pool. A couple of weeks ago, when our backyard was cleared of all its old foliage and the hole had been dug, I was inspired. That's when I started writing this post.

  I thought I would miss all the old trees, grass, flowers, etc. But, I didn't. As soon as the hole was dug, the vision for our future backyard began to take place. Even though there had been destruction and the backyard was a mess, there was a promise of something new. Something that was better for our family. 

My plan was to write about brokenness and how it is not always as bad as it seems. Then, I started feeling broken and I couldn't see the promise anymore. How could I encourage others when I didn't feel encouraged myself?
Over the past couple of weeks, life has been hard. Frustrating. Discouraging. O has regressed in many areas. The number of tantrums has increased and my ability to handle them has been less than ideal. So, although his "graduation" from kindergarten was quickly approaching, and the idea that we had made it through his first year of school, with fewer problems than we had expected, was lost among the increase in negative behaviors. I was having trouble celebrating all the success in the midst of what I perceived as failures.
Last Friday was particularly difficult for me. It all came to a head when O innocently asked me, "Mama, what do you do when you go to work?" As I began to share with him all the things I do for children who are very similar to him, I felt despair that I had not been able to help my own child in the same ways. It was devastating to my already fragile emotional state. 
If you read my post earlier this week, you know how beautifully my husband responded to my not-so-beautiful moment. It was a huge blessing and gave me a new perspective on all that we have accomplished this year.
That's the heart of the story, really, the story of God and people and his hands in the world. All through history, he's making soup from bones, life from death, water from rocks, love from hate.  Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines
Empty. That's my word for 2014. Some days it's easy to be empty before God, ready for him to fill me. And, other days, those days that are filled with the stuff of life - school activities, doctor appointments, temper tantrums, spring concerts, reports to write, etc. - when I am not available to God, he empties me. 
And, that's what he has done during these weeks. I have been broken and empty. Not by my own will, but by His. Much like my backyard, my life has been cleared of the old to make room for what is to come. For what God has planned.
Emptiness often leaves us with nothing but the promise of something new. Something better. The rainbow after the flood. The stone that was rolled away. The veil that was torn. They all followed emptiness. And, all were worth waiting for.