Valleys

They say you learn more in the valleys of life than the peaks. we've had a lot of valleys lately. Sometimes the peaks look really, really far away and unattainable from the deepest regions of those valleys... but i know they are up there. i keep resting on the hope that one step at a time we will gain ground.

April 6th we had a pipe burst in our basement. It entailed a homeowners insurance policy claim and a lot of frustration. we are grateful to have our house back, but every little drip and leak in this 60 year old home makes me cringe and keeps me tense about 'the next imminent fiasco' on the horizon.

Floyd's brakes on his truck gave out a few days later. They had rusted completely through and had to be replaced entirely. A few days later my car died, right before we were set to go out of town. And about ten minutes before I was scheduled to teach the three year old Sunday School lesson. Awesome.

We escaped the mayhem by retreating to the beach for several days with Will's parents. They relax for a few weeks in the Palm Coast of Florida each year, and are gracious to host us. It was great to get away, and coincided with Will's birthday. Having a few minutes of uninterrupted conversation was blissful.

Bookending our trip naturally was the loss of Floyd's cell phone. It disappeared into thin air, and three days later was found by a complete stranger in Florida. Not a big deal alone, but as part of our little pattern of bumps and bruises, quite consequential -- especially when considering the next hit.

The day after we arrived home from our trip, I had a nagging hunch that something was wrong... You see, Will and I had found out we were expecting a third baby in March... and were waiting until early May to go to the doctor. I called to bump up my appointment, and Will was at work (phoneless). As I sat in the ultrasound room, watching the screen and knowing what I saw was not healthy, a shadow of loneliness fell. Tears came streaming down my face as the technician explained that dates were not matching with a viable pregnancy and that most likely this baby stopped growing a couple of weeks before. I drove home in a blur and couldn't bring myself to move.

The doctor had given me choices as to our next steps, but all of them sounded equally horrible. I called a couple of friends who have been through a miscarriage, hoping for someone to tell me there was a better way out. The reality is no solution is good or easy, they are all equally devastating and yet completely unavoidable. A few days later Floyd played his first live show in 18 months. Strange as it may sound, that night was incredibly healing. Watching him do something he is so naturally good at, and seeing a room full of friends both new and old come to hear him play was a great reminder of God's faithfulness.

The next week the children both had the throw up bug, and when Floyd went out of town the following week, my body finally gave in and ceded defeat as well. Throwing up while your diaper-less 22 month old cries for breakfast is really humbling.

Why am I sharing all of this? I guess in hopes that it is over... that we are on our way up. But also to remind myself that while life is hard and full of tough decisions and brokenness, God is faithful. We have a roof over our head and food on our table. We found the means to keep our cars running and have good doctors to return our bodies to health. We have relationships with friends who reflect our Maker and encourage us to press on. God is good, and He does not change. Our circumstances are ever changing, but we serve One who created all and can use all for His glory, and our sanctification. And for that reason, I'm thankful for the valleys.