My Heart Belongs to Two Blondes

As I was sitting at the stoplight begging it not to turn green just yet, I happened to glance at the thermometer on the Walgreen's sign across the street. Eighteen degrees. Too cold to play outside. It was going to be a miserable day. I could just feel it. There wasn't a single ounce of me that wanted to go to work that morning, and yet here I sat, one stoplight away. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I started pleading with God. I hated my job, and I wanted to make sure He knew that I wanted a new one. Fast. However, a new job isn't exactly what God had in mind. Our conversation went a little like this:
"HEY!!!! Shut up and listen to me!"
"God? But I hate my job! Don't make me keep doing it!"
"Would you just hold on a second?"
"Ok, ok. I'm listening."
"Joy, if you can hold on just a little bit longer, I've got something big for you just right around the corner."
"But Lord I can't do this anymore. I'm miserable."
"I know, but trust me. Just hang on a little longer."
"How much longer?"
"You'll see. Just hold on."
"Ok. Holding."
Inside, I was pretty much telling myself that God had until the end of the week to give me something, or I was giving notice and I was out of there. Little did I know that two days later my life at work would come crashing in around all of us, and we were going to have to bind together in order to pick up the pieces and learn to make beauty from ashes.

It's been six months since the cold February morning when I learned that the father of the two beautiful little boys I spend my days with wasn't ever coming home again. It's been six months on a roller coaster ride of emotion that I first observed and then later voluntarily jumped onto. I was blessed enough for God to have chosen me to be the one to walk through the fire with my beautiful and absolutely resilient employer, Erin. And honestly, blessed doesn't even begin to cover it. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I could have learned so much from being the only constant in the midst of pain and a struggle to survive. But I did. And I still am.

I'm pretty positive that we would all agree that the first two months were the hardest. Once the doubt subsided, the darkness set in. In with the darkness came confusion and the pain of loss. There was so much "Why?" and not many answers. It was through this stage of loss that I believe my compassionate heart crossed over the line of my original job description. It was in these months that I found myself not only holding crying children, but also holding a woman whose heart was breaking into pieces. It was such a relief once she realized that I was there for her, too, because she didn't have to hide the utter despair that so visibly plagued her soul. She became unafraid to let me see her break, and I was glad. My own heart broke for her and spilled tears down my face many nights as I got in my car to drive home. I, too, was asking why, and I, too, had so many unanswered questions.

I'm not sure I can tell you exactly when I realized that I had given this precious, broken family my whole heart. But as I sit back and look at it now, I can tell you that I love those boys and I love that woman with a fierce, protective love that I was not aware I was capable of. I would do anything in my power to stop any more pain and harm from reaching them. I would do anything in my power to show them the hope and unconditional love that is being withheld from them right now. My very heart shatters when I am holding a child who can't sleep because he wonders which parent, if any, will be there when he wakes up. Rage consumes me when I watch that baby sleep all day because he was too unsure of where he was last night to get any rest. It's not fair, and it never will be again. I hate it, and yet I have to trust that Jesus has this one, and He is holding them all in the palm of His hand. I have to trust that even though awful sin and darkness can enter in, it will be only light that shines back out through the cracks.

A week from tomorrow a judge will decide which parent gets to stake claim on the two precious little lives that are oblivious to the battle raging over their heads. A week from tomorrow the earth may fall out from under the beautiful woman that I have watched fight a fierce fight for the lives she brought into this world. I don't know what is going to happen. I'm praying for justice, and I'm praying for peace. What I do know is that whatever falls, I'll be there when it's over to help pull two beautiful, blonde-headed little boys out from under the rubble. I love them with all my heart, and the things they have taught me are worth more than words. I only hope that they can grow into strong, capable young men, without a doubt about whether they were ever loved. As long as they know that, my job is accomplished. My job, which by the way, I now love.