pay attention to your tears

 i'm sitting out on my back porch, like i used to do over a decade ago when i started writing in atlanta. back then i looked out over tall water oaks in the heat of georgia with 2 little blonde boys at my feet and zoe somewhere near and yet also far, which is why i started writing. i think i was trying to find her. trying to find myself. trying to figure out how to do a life that felt so out of the ordinary. actually i came here to write out what was happening on the outside and the inside so i could try to make sense of it, to squeeze out the meaning. 

"Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go next.” says Buechner.

and there were so many tears. so i was trying to listen. to attend. to discover, who we were, this mystery of us and where we should go next.

i have sat on many porches over the past decade with zoe and those boys and then another girl, looking out over many types of trees.  and i have shed many tears because the discovery has been rich, the lessons needed and the growth has come.

this past weekend zoe turned 22. we picked her up on friday from the school she had just graduated from - she said good by to her favorite friend joey and we drove away with a car full of all her possessions. it felt like the chapter of her childhood had closed. 

on saturday we celebrated her 22nd birthday with our family, grandparents and her best and oldest friend lily. then on sunday we drove her to her new program and place of residence - a music school for like-minded students a few hours away. she will learn voice and piano and band and chorus and have social groups and life skills and the things she needs with people who get her.

this all feels very significant to me. like i should plant a tree. it is to be marked. yes, celebrated, but somehow more than that. is there a word for a poignant, bittersweet- 80% cacao, thrilled but acknowledge that this- this has been arrived at through such narrow passage that all involved are scarred, kind of celebrate? it feels bigger and deeper that my girl has arrived here! AMEN!

could i have seen this when she was decompensating in uganda at the market? 

no.

could i have seen this when i flew her home the next year emergently and she landed in the hospital?

no.

could i have seen this day in and day out in the moments when life is actually lived, in what feels like slow motion, please God give us our daily absence of sticky thoughts, so many silent prayers for her and me, prayers of Help! slapped on top of fear. 

could i have seen this when she ate those earth worms (but don't worry she didn't chew :)? 

no. 

back then, where i stand now would have broken my heart i'm sad to say. i wouldn't have wanted this outcome. but that is where Jesus is gentle with me. tears speak of a journey, He knew who i was and where i needed to go and i was at the beginning. i wasn't ready to see her future in the light i see it in now. i don't know what i thought, but when i started writing here if  asked if i would be excited that my daughter qualified for group home living?  i would have said a firm no.  

and this is the mystery. God who made zoe, see's her even when she feels most unseen. this place was made for her. she gets to be near music and play music which speaks to her when other things and people can't, while getting the support she still needs. 

so my tears today are tears of memory and marking, of thanksgiving and pride. of expectancy and joy.

what a journey we are on!