Where do I begin? My last post was a month ago tonight. Somewhere between the national anthem and posting a photo of the pizza we had made as a family the day before during our first afternoon all together since mid-December, my favorite glass hobnail cake stand came crashing down from the top shelf of our open pantry and smashed to the floor almost seven feet below. It was a shocking sound and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out how the vintage piece that had securely sat on that deep shelf for the past three and half years could have fallen. I spent the entire first half of the Super Bowl cleaning up shards of glass that stretched from every nook of the pantry, through the kitchen, and to the living room rug.
In the next few days and weeks that followed, I learned that my life as I knew it, and hoped it would be, had shattered that night. He had crossed a boundary he knew I couldn’t follow him over.
This blog tells a story, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. I’ve chosen to highlight the pretty, the creative, the joy, the hope, and the good times, but believe me, there’s another side of the coin as there is for most of us. I’ve focused on the inspiring design, healthy food, and whimsy of parenting because I didn’t feel the grizzly tales of trauma, addiction, betrayal, and the rollercoaster they had us ride were entirely my story to tell. But now it is my story and I don’t know how to move forward without sharing it.
And so it begins. I do know one thing though: as I take my first few steps navigating this new chapter of life with unbalance and heartache, I don’t want my story, our story, to unfold as one of anger, shame, and bitterness, but as one of love, grace, reflection, forgiveness, healing, growth, renewal, and rebirth. ‘Cause God knows we need all of these things now more than ever.
I’m listening to: