Mostly because there’s so much to write about. And also because words haven’t been coming easily to me lately.
Or maybe because so many things I want to write may not fall into the THINK category. I didn’t realize this part until I read our kids pastors blog today. That so much of what I’m struggling with sharing is because I’m not sure when it crosses those lines…Is it True, Helpful, Inspiring, Necessary, Kind…you can read his whole blog post here:
Life has gone on. Rob graduated Phase 1 and has moved on to Phase 2. The long one. We think he’ll be home late February. There have been good days. Bad days. Thankful to be able to get out of bed days.
The past couple of weeks have been hard. I think we’re both adjusting to this new phase with a little more difficulty. Maybe more resistance. It’s physically a lot further away. Visiting is more restricted. Letters and phone calls are more restricted.
Sometimes I think the physical distance has created an emotional distance as well. Or maybe we’re letting it.
The week he graduated phase 1 was a difficult one. It started with a weekend visit to see him in Hot Springs Village. We had a great family weekend. He and I had amazing talks. We talked about things we’ve never talked about before.
Then. His Uncle Paul passed away. There was some concern whether he would even be able to come home for the service. He was ultimately able to and I think seeing everyone was good for Rob. Hearing the encouragement and support firsthand meant so much to him.
After that I was still able to spend much of Thursday and Friday with him. We talked for hours. It was crazy. All of the doubt I’d had about whether this was the right place for him was gone. I knew God had him in this place. Had us in this place for a reason. He was using this place to do an incredible work in Rob. He was giving me time and space to heal.
At graduation, Rob’s words amazed me. I wish I had recorded it. There’ve been so many days I’ve needed to hear him say those things again. Then to hear others there say how much he had influenced them. Been there for them. Inspired them.
So many tears.
We had talked about. Agonized over. Prayed about whether he should go on to phase 2. At that time there was no doubt in my mind. I knew this was making a difference in him. I felt peace with it.
Because 14 months is a long time to be gone. A lot of things to miss. Months of financial worries. The strain separation puts on a marriage. The burden of making decisions alone. Again.
We had decided it was all worth it. As Rob’s mom said, a year seems like a long time but you have so many more years after.
Then the first visit to see him in Missouri. Everything was off. We sat in silence between bursts of conversation. The distance that we had worked so hard to overcome felt further than before. The peace I had with him continuing with the program was fading fast.
I know this is where he needs to be. I trust that God will keep working on us. I believe that more healing will come through this.
I just don’t feel it right now.
I feel lonely. Scared. Sad. Overwhelmed.
And nothing. So often I feel nothing because that’s easier than all these feelings.
Last week was hard. Tori and her boyfriend were in an accident out of state. They’re both fine but it was just the proverbial straw. One more thing to deal with.
And if that was the straw, a phone call later in the week was the bowling ball on top of the straw. And. When I THINK…I know I can’t share it here.
I told Rob. And. His reaction was…not what I had prepared for. I had played the conversation over and over in my mind. Different ways to tell him. Different ways he would react. None of them happened.
I needed him to see how this affected me. Him. Us. Our family. I wanted to talk about it. Like we talked in April before he left for Missouri. Because it has to be talked about eventually. And I thought we were done avoiding the hard stuff.
4 hours goes by so fast. We talked. Mostly about nothing. Some about how it is there. What’s going on at home. I told him I would do better at writing to him. He said writing to me made him sad.
I know what he meant. He misses us. But the way he said it was hard to hear.
We won’t see him again until Fathers Day weekend. It’s too long between visits that are too short.
And words aren’t coming easily anymore. This blog…this outlet I’ve had to work through and share this journey. Some days I think maybe it’s just not the right time to share. That the words will come later.
Some days I worry I’ve lost them for good and writing will never be right again.
So today, when a good friend said she missed my blog, I thought I’d try.
It’s not a great post. Probably not even a good one. But maybe it’s a start and maybe if I just keep pressing on I’ll get my words back.
Or… Maybe it’s just a quiet time.