back to work

Tomorrow morning, bright and early at 7:30am, I'll kiss my little boy goodbye, head out the door and fight the morning rush hour up to North Wales where I'll start my first day as the new Senior Operations Analyst at First Equity. Woo-hoo. Don't I sound thrilled? Far from it this evening.

I've spent most of the past few hours crying as I rocked B to sleep, crying as I packed up his bags & defrosted my milk for bottles, crying on Matthew's chest about how I'm not going to be able to do this. My close friends are now laughing as they realize this "non-emotional Amy" has now turned into a sap. All it took was a little 8 pound bundle arriving 12 weeks ago today. I know I WILL be able to do this. Brighton will be fine. I'll be fine. Life will go on. But tonight it just feels overwhelming and really really hard. People ask me if I'm not the tiniest bit excited about having a little bit of freedom to type with both hands, drive without constantly looking in the rearview mirror, possibly even run into a coffee shop or the grocery store without having to lug around a baby. And honestly I have to answer, not yet. I'm sure I will be some day. I'm sure I'll be dying for breaks like this. But not yet.

More and more I'm learning that that's okay. Rarely does God bring into my life things I'm ready for. More often than not, He leads me down paths that seem ridiculously impossible if I was trying to manage them with my own strength/emotions/willpower. Still being pretty sleep-deprived, I sure as heck can't do this with my own strength or emotions. Tonight I am more thankful than I can state with words that I have a Father who is carrying me. That I have arms encircling me, a chest to lean my head against, and someone who knows just how hard this is...because he's gone through it before. On a much more intense level. The tearing is eased a little bit knowing I'm not going through it alone. And that this story I'm in, that Brighton's in, is much, much bigger than a rough couple of months being separated. It's about being in relationship with our Father. And this circumstance, as sucky as it is, is taking me deeper into Him. And will take Brighton deeper into Him, even if it is unknowingly on his part. Kicking and screaming, I'm forced to let myself be taken in. And when I'm there, it's funny...I know I wouldn't want to be anywhere else for the time being because this is the only place I can really, deeply rest.

So if you're awake tomorrow morning around that time and feel like lifting up a prayer for me, for Brighton and for this sweet woman, Lynette, who'll be taking care of him, I'd really appreciate it. I'll post how the day went soon.