Promises made, promises kept

 It’s been one day since her last phone call. 

Six days since her last face time. 

Seven days since her last court date. 

364 days since I last saw her face to face. 

399 days since she lived at our address. 

588 days since we shared an address.

Next Tuesday, I will wake up in my bed and go out into the hall and crack open the door that is across from my bedroom. I will see her form lying asleep. I’ll close the door softly and go to the kitchen to make my coffee. And it will be the first time I could do that in 594 days. 

But I made that choice. David and I together weighed all the costs of moving, which job to choose, when to sell the house, what plan would work best for the family. We talked to peers and mentors, realtors and pastors, family and friends and to the kids themselves. We wrestled and prayed and planned for months, trying to figure out the best plan for this next phase of life. And 588 days ago I moved out of my family house into an apartment with a promise that we would be together soon. 

595 days later, that promise will be kept. 

Honestly, I doubt there will ever be a time in my life when I feel at peace with these past 595 days and the decisions we made - or were forced to make - with everything that followed. There was no crystal ball or hand writing on the wall to foretell the course we set ourselves on. 

But just like the “wrongness” of life these past 1.5 years have amplified hurt and fear - I expect the “rightness” of being together again to amplify that same joy and hope we carried these long days and nights. 

Would I, if I could, do it differently? Well yes - that and a thousand other mistakes I’ve made. But as I see the new life of spring budding on our trees and hear the new song of the birds at our feeders - I know that this is not the last mistake I make - nor is it the last time for me to see grace and love shining like brilliant stars into the darkness of my own making. 

And the One who has kept every promise - who has given His presence - His comfort - His love - He will be there with us still, for all the mistakes I have yet to make.