Wednesday, October 9


I made macaroons tonight.

(The normal coconut macaroons; not the amazingly brilliant colored macaroons that are trending right now.)

And I thought, "I'm making macaroons. Who has time to make macaroons? Remember when I didn't think I would ever be able to shower/fold laundry/watch a movie/smile/breathe/pray...? And somehow three years later, I'm making macaroons..."

October has snuck up on me. It's cooler mornings and bright yellow pumpkins and a toddler's teething and somehow, October. And my three year old Gwenny would be scheming about her birthday party and what kind of cake she would like and who to invite. And we would still be at camp and Malacai may or may not have been here, and I would know God less and love my husband less and think of Heaven less. In fact, I wouldn't think of it at all.

What a different life.

And I know I wouldn't be thinking and praying for 60 different women who are in the Hope Mommies Hope Groups, (and Hope Mommies would not exist) praying over how the innocuous details of their day are so heavy to them right now. They can't hold macaroons right now. They are struggling to breathe, to get out of bed, to smile, to hold on to God and husband and children and routine and jobs and hope. The stupid things are, well... stupid.

Ahmm. I am more introspective tonight than planned. It's those macaroons, you know. The simple little things that we invest time in and then question, "Does this even matter?"

Life has made a radical new turn in the Cushman home. We live in town, we pay mortgage, we have neighbors who smoke. I walk to the grocery store and the health food store and the library. I am at church a lot. Blair is at church a lot. I have cell phone service, and my mail comes to my front door, every day. Cai goes to Mother's Day Out and I spend the majority of my "free" hours on Hope Mommies. It's all just different, and very good, and very challenging to keep perspective and live missionally. ("Missionally"? Apparently not an adverb... yet.)

We've been out of town and had family in town and somehow I look up and it's October? I still haven't had time to process (Again - "process"? I mean really. What do we mean when we say that? That the end goal is to feel emotionally happy with whatever circumstances we are in, and if we are not happy, then we still need to "process"?) Well. I am happy, which is the weird thing about it all. Even with the fact that it's October, with an 18 day count down to the reminder of the severe mercy of God.

And yet... I love that just for a moment, I feel close to her. I smell pumpkin and wrap a scarf around my neck and imagine the feel of her, and this is when I know I'm the whole-est me I will be on this side of glory; when I hold her and Malacai and Blair.

So it's okay if I don't have time right now to journal all day or read books or write or take photos or anything else that makes me introspective. It's okay that I don't have a grip on life; in the cheesiest Christian way possible to end that sentence... God does have a grip on me and I'm utterly dependent on that fact. I've been waking early to have that "sweet hour of prayer" that the Hymn writer extols, and I think that has made all the difference during this season.

So if you live in town (or if you don't) I'd love to have you over for a cup of coffee and a stroll, and do life -- even then innocuous parts -- with you.

And if you're lucky, I might even give you a macaroon.

This seems like an accurate photo description of my life - blurry, busy, but trying to focus

1 comment:

  1. beautiful post. and I for one, thank you for hope mommies, though the coming of it, I am so incredibly sorry and wish you didn't have to endure. it's funny, that God can move in our hearts to turn something so tragic into a realization that life wouldn't be the way it is today, the thankfulness, the ability to be aware of the hurts and the hopes of heaven, if that tragedy didn't occur. only God.