I felt gut-punched hearing Meg’s words:
“I don’t ever tell you this Mommy, but you need to know my head hurts all the time. I don’t tell you because I don’t want to go to hospitals and I don’t want to have to leave Evan. But it hurts. Every single day. It just never stops Mom. Sometimes I tell you it’s not because we get to do more fun things then. But it always does.”
Pain has a way of devaluing words, and there simply aren’t any responses at times. I pulled Meg close and brushed her hair back from her face and held her. Just held her. Her heavy sigh was loud in the quietness. I never knew a sigh could be so hard to bare.
As the kids slept, I tried to find something to take my mind away from my thoughts. I tried watching tv, reading, email, and folding laundry, but nothing worked.
What Meg said was heart-wrenching and discouraging. I couldn’t get over it. I sat down and leaned my head back, knowing I had to think about it. I had to face it.
This is our life right now. There is so much good, and so much hard.
Deciding my feelings of helplessness were high enough I made myself read as I normally would.
I came across 2 Corinthians 3:18:
"And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit."
If the ugliness of life has shown me anything, it’s how beautiful God is.
I find when I start to question or become frustrated with how life’s going, I forget His sight.
We will see God’s glory, but we have to turn towards it. When we do, we’re transformed. Life is brighter and beautiful, because it’s only then we have eyes to see.
His glory blinds us to ourselves.
While circumstances lead me to wonder what we are going to do, Christ leads me to who I need to be. I finally understand what “from glory to glory” means.