The Quiet Place

Another Sunday here.

Another quiet day.

It's become a sort of hiding place for me.  A day to enjoy my family, to rest, and to think.  Sometimes a good day, sometimes a tough day....

Today, it's been sort of both. 

Thomas accidentally hit me in the eye with the corner of one of his board books today.  It didn't really hurt too bad, and yet, with my short little emotional tolerance, it was an excuse for the tears to flow. 

So they did for a while, and I just let them. 

I find these days that's the best way to deal with the loss.  But I'm learning to be okay in the quiet place, no matter how raw it may feel. 

We went to church this morning, and the pastor spoke on a verse from Habakkuk. 

Must admit, I haven't ever read much from Habakkuk.  But the verse spoke to me.  It very well could have been in the book of Job instead:

Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.

The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.
Habbakkuk 3:17-19
Sometimes I feel that even though we are treading through a valley, His grace and strength are propelling me to the heights. That's a comforting, but at the same time, unsettling feeling. 
 
Who is so great and so powerful, that amid all of the sorrow we have endured over the past six months, can give our spirit strength?  It's an overwhelming thing.  Makes you take stock of the power.  Of the glory.  No wonder He is to be both loved and feared...
 
I just woke up from a nap with my boys. BT and Thomas are both still asleep in our bed.  It was a rare, beautiful occurence: a nap together, all three of us on a Sunday afternoon.
 
Now the house is quiet, with only the sound of the keyboard.
 
The quiet place. 
 
I'm learning to be okay with it.