These last few weeks seem like a whirlwind. I honestly don’t know if I’ve even really had time to blink as we prepared our house to be sold. We finally got all the projects done and there is little busyness to distract me from grief. I’m anxious and excited about what God has next for us. I’ve admittedly had a hard time thinking about and processing our future, knowing it didn’t include George Mason in any kind of physical way. I think its a good thing that there’s finally a breath to be taken and a hint of excitement on the horizon.
As I sit here today, my house is clean, there are no honey-do lists nagging in the background. I’m here, in this moment, with nothing else to do but talk to God and process “out loud” on my electronic journal. It seems like cheating almost. To have nothing to do but sit with Jesus. It feels a bit like those moments of awkward silence when you’ve run out of pleasantries with a stranger or you’ve made your point and everyone is in agreement. I don’t really know what its like to just sit with my God and feel his presence without the lingering thoughts of the many other things I SHOULD be doing. Today this is a gift. There are probably other things to do (a completely unknown future awaits us in a month when we close) but for right now there’s nothing that I can do, nothing that I need to do, so I’m sitting and praying.
I’m thanking Him for the little moments where it was so clear that He was right there, is right there, in all of this messy stuff we call the human experience. I’m thanking him for the strength he’s given me and Adam over the last 5 months. Strength that comes from nothing inside me but instead solely from the Creator of the world. I’m thanking him for this house. This place that we have called home, in all of its disasters, dust, and dirt. I’m thanking him for the memories we’ve made in this house - even though some of them are so hard, He was present through them all - Every tear, every laugh, every moment of worry, every minute spent in prayer, this house, our home, has been part of George Mason’s story… why shouldn’t I be thankful for that?
Even though George Mason never left that hospital NICU, his life was spent in this house. He heard countless renditions of Snow White being read to his sister. He heard every belly laugh and felt every sway during our numerous dance parties. He felt the comfort of his daddy’s deep voice as we prayed over his precious life. This house, is full of George Mason’s experiences. It is full of the things that he knew and the things that comforted his family as we awaited his birth. He never came home, but he was very much a part of this family and our home and for that I’m beyond grateful.
It was awful to come home from the hospital without my baby boy. It was awful to come home and see an empty crib in the half finished nursery that would never be used by the tiny person it was intended for. Those were terrible moments in the story of this house - and our family - but they weren’t the entire story and that is the biggest blessing of all. So as I sit here today, just enjoying the quiet, it is my prayer that as we close out this chapter of our lives, we would be able to look back on it with fondness and see so very clearly our God’s fingerprints on all of it.
One thing I have asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock. And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the LORD. Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud; be gracious to me and answer me! You have said, “Seek my face.” My heart says to you, “Your face, LORD, do I seek.” -Psalm 27:4-8