Apr 13

Don’t Worry

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Most nights we sing and dance and laugh together before bed. Daddy usually entertains the baby, and I try to cook us a quick dinner. Last night was no different. William had his bath, and smelled all warm and snuggly, and D and I were in our cozy clothes, and we were all dancing around the kitchen.

Don’t worry about a thing

‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right

Bob Marley wrote the most epic song, and it is a crowd favorite at the Caldwell house. Dan was singing those words to William, and I was scrambling some eggs for our fancy Sunday night dinner, and it was like a movie scene. I looked around, and I thought to myself that I was so happy, yet my heart hurt so bad. I began to cry, and Dan began to cry with me.

There’s just a hole in our dance party, and it just never feels right. Our little tiny dancer wasn’t there.

I opened an email recently from a friend that lives in Germany. We have known each other since childhood, but only from when she comes to visit family that lives in my home town. She came back to Alabama for our wedding, and we try to email often to stay in touch. She said this to me in a recent email:

Just need to tell you something real quick…  I just looked at a picture in your blog again… The one from February 24th
I can still see the pain and grief in your face, even though you are smiling :-(
I took a piece of paper and covered one side of your face,then the other.
The left side on that picture (next to William)  is smiling, the right side looks sad to me :-*
Just wanted to let you know that I am there for you and sending you some virtual hugs xoxo

All this to say, she barely sees me, and honestly she does not even know me as well as most people in my day to day circle, yet somehow she sees my pain, when others so near me seem to forget.

As we snuggled on the couch last night to watch the new A.D. series on t.v., I watched Jesus being crucified. My heart was heavy and my eyes were dry from the tears, and yet I began to weep again at the sight of Mary watching her baby boy die.

I get that. And I wonder how many people in Mary’s life all too soon forgot that her baby died right in front of her.

How often do I forget? I ache for people to talk about my Mary Anna and recognize my hurt just like my dear friend did all the way from Germany, but so often, I forget about Jesus’ death too.

May my somber heart draw near to Jesus, and may I yearn for him as I yearn for my sweet baby girl.

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Singin': “Don’t worry ’bout a thing

‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.”

Apr 01

Hump Day

I didn’t sleep well last night, because I was going over and over in my head all the things that we should sell or keep for this stupid yard sale that we are having this weekend.

Who ever invented a yard sale anyways?

I mean really… EVERYONE thinks they’re a pain, but yet we all still do them.

Anyways, I woke up groggy partly because of my debate of whether of not I should keep an ugly lamp or not and partly, because baby William gave me his cold.

Okay and that’s another thing, I mean couldn’t mommas be free from all colds?!?

God should have given all mommas some antibody, because if it isn’t tiring enough to take care of whiny, sleepy, snotty, restless, and the list goes on, baby, then right when they’re starting to turn the corner something happens…

We sneeze! REALLY?! I’m sick now!

Back to the point I guess, so I finally come downstairs in my raggity pjs, and think “maybe I should sell this shirt in the yard sale too!” wink wink. I nurse the baby, and decide to pour myself a bowl of cereal.

Wellllllll…. I had these two different kinds of cereal mixed in my handy OXO containers, and one was yummy and one was gross. I got on this no sugar for breakfast kick and bought this bland cereal that tasted like cardboard, so I recently bought a yummy sugary cereal to mix in to make it desirable. SO they weren’t mixing too good, so I decide the right thing to do was to shake the container. Yeah… well… this happened.

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I wasn’t sure if I should cry, laugh, yell at my dogs who were eating it off the floor, or grab the baby who was chewing on the rug that I needed to send back.

Deep breath.

Laugh, take a picture, grab the baby, sweep up the mess, make a cup of coffee, and get out the vacuum.

Yeah, well that baby boy of mine is BUSY y’all. I mean BUSY! And again, I find him chewing not on the returnable rug, but the vacuum cord people. Yes, the one that’s plugged into the wall.

#mommyfail

Why do we hashtag things by the way? I”m not sure, but yet I do it all the time, because it’s just better to add the # to a mommyfail.

Insert baby in jumper, vacuum floor, eat cereal, feed baby his oatmeal. And all is well right?

NO! I throw his oatmeal across the floor. Accidentally. All the while the Today show is on, and they’re debating spirituality, and I just cringe as my heart is preparing for Easter. It’s only 8:45 a.m. people. Oh and then my little buddy pukes mucus all over the place. Thank you. Thank you.

Turn off the t.v., turn on praise music, change clothes, let dogs eat baby’s oatmeal, I mean who mops these days anyways?, sit down for a second, and get baby ready for his nap.

While walking upstairs with my sweet William, I kiss him on his little noggin and tell him that I love him. I tell him about our day that we have planned, and I feel something on my arm. IT IS POOP!

NAP TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so why did I write all of this down? I’m not really sure, except I just felt like if someone else says, “Aww… so do you JUST stay at home?” I might smack them hard. Like really hard. And because it was pretty funny that this is what a morning looks like these days. I love my little buddy so much that it hurts. I love my messy days with him at home.

We miss the rising sun that signals another day of grace in which God has entrusted us with nurturing his little image bearers to love and honor him first and foremost and forever.
When the mundane looms larger than eternal life, we forget who God is, who we are, and who are children are.
-Gloria Furman

So why really did I write this down? Because I feel like somehow, someway, this is exactly where I am supposed to be on this Easter week. My heart longs to sit in silence in awe of what my Savior has done for me. He died for me, and then he rose again, so that I could be free.

So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha). Here they crucified him, and with him two others – one on each side and Jesus in the middle.
John 19: 17-18

My days of worship are messy, interrupted, and often filled with silence. I saw a little girl yesterday, and almost cried in the middle of the lemonade store watching her smile and wave at William. That would’ve been what Mary Anna would’ve been doing too if she was here.

I am silent. He died and rose for me. Even on days filled with bad cereal on the floor and poop on my arm. He is King over it all.

We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope.
-Steven Curtis Chapman