Wednesday, Philip called to say that he had been called out to work Hurricane Alex. I stopped by the grocery store on my way home from choir rehearsal and bought snack food for his time away. I also stocked up on bread, pb&j, apples, bananas, and oatmeal. I figured with Philip gone, the rest of us could exist on pretend meals and a tidy kitchen.
Just after dawn the next morning, he fired up the bucket truck and headed south. Before he left, he imposed each child's slumber with prayers, hugs & kisses. He and I shared some scripture and prayer and a few extra hugs & kisses as well. I was uncharacteristically emotional. All I could utter was "God, please keep him safe."
After a final wave goodbye and some quickly blown kisses, I came indoors to start my week as a single mom. I started some laundry and browsed around on facebook. I purposed my heart toward keeping a level head and being all my kids needed for the week. In the unaccustomed silence I even allowed my imagination to take me toward the possibility of his prolonged absence lasting more than a week.
When the kids got up, we had breakfast and started our Thursday house-cleaning regimen. I pretended we were on our way to a weekend tournament and made a couple dozen sandwiches so that meal prep could scoot to the back burner as I kept my focus on being calm and mildly enjoyable:)
Before I had the crumbs wiped away, Philip called. "I'm headed back home. They don't need us."
My first thought was, "Oh, wow. This is a really big relief to both my parenting stress and my overall feeling of security --not to mention my jeopardized sleep cycles."
My very next thought was, "Oh, snap. I just used most of our grocery budget on Philip's snacks, and now he's back...and he's gonna want dinner...like real dinner, not oatmeal. shucks."
The morning roller coaster of emotions tickled me unexpectedly.
It reminded me of the labor pains for my firstborn.
*****
I had been pushing and crying and I wanted to give up. Between contractions, Philip lovingly explained that quitting was not an option. (Gotta be kiddin me:) Even in my distress, I knew he was right...with a "Captain Obvious" sort of charm.
I bolstered my resolve, said a prayer, and prepared my heart and mind for another hour or two of pushing.
Landen was born the very next moment.
What a waste of inspiration!
*****
As Philip said his good-byes, we approached the day with great resolve and purpose. No PBS. No sleeping in. Scripture. Prayer. Love.
All for nothing?
In a way, yes.
In a bigger way, no. Why does a hurricane have to threaten my husband's safety in order for me to cry out to God on his behalf? Why did the morning seem so real? Do I typically tend to pretend? Just like soggy sandwiches and oatmeal?
Gross. Stupid and Gross.
"Be very careful then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." - Ephesians 5:15-16
