Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Cold Feet (and other reasons not to write)

My feet are actually, literally very cold today.  I sit at my desk, fully distracted by how uncomfortable the two of them are.  It's not astrophysics, though, is it?  I have these nice Uggs Jesse and Annie brought me for Christmas last year so on they go.


I wonder if there is something cozy for my mind.  Is there something I can wrap up in to warm this corner and get me to stretch out into this thing, this season, I've looked forward to for so long?

I have not, most definitely have not, looked forward to the off-spring being gone.  One, two, three, four- they are away.  And this is not about that.  They are well.  And I am well.

Oh, I'm not going to pretend empty nest didn't arrive with a sudden, shocking grief.  Even though I saw it coming.  Even though I welcomed the silence as I wept, embracing them on their way.

There were parties when each baby arrived.  No parties to say, "All gone!"

But even so.

This faffing around, this inability to settle at my desk, is not that.

This is a binding cold.

I am a writer.

And my feet are freezing.


Anonymous said...

When my son left our home, I felt as if the walls would fall on me - it was so empty. But then I heard a little bird calling outside his room's window. Every morning the Blackbreasted Flycatcher sat in the tree and called out. It was God's way of telling me that He takes care of His birds - and our children. Every morning He repeated that message until it became a part of me. Later in the season I went for my regular walk to the library. There in the park next door, is a bench under a tree where I like to sit to catch my breath. While sitting there, I noticed young Bluebirds - several of them. They were doing fine - they had learnt to catch their own bugs and to drink irrigation water that pooled in a hollow spot in the concrete pavement. The Bluebird parents were not far off. They sat on a fence nearby, but kept their distance while watching their offspring. I said to the Lord, 'They have an empty nest, like me.' He answered, 'Next season, their nest wll be full again.' I realized then that God would fill my nest again too with something special. He did it in a very good way too. God will do the same for you, whatever it is that He has chosen for you. Years ago I read something that a veteran missionary wrote in her newsletter - that God can't wait for our empty nests, because He has such wonderful plans for us for that season. It encouraged me and when that season came for me, He surprised me with unexpected joys and surprises. He will do so for you too - anticipate good things to come in spite of / in the midst of grieving your loss. Weeping endures for a night, but joy comes in the morning. God bless you.

lisa said...

Thank you. I appreciate it!

Lisa McKay said...

I'm a writer, and I've nothing to say at the moment. Different. Similar. Maybe. Hope they warm up soon.