Kara’s Collection: The Next Thing

From an article originally posted March 17, 2014…

In the agony of waiting, you do the next thing. Whatever it is, you simply go through the motion. You look for peace, name grace, and simply try to get through each day. This last season of tests was particularly hard as we had one result of positive cancer and had to wait on my brain to hear the next answer, and we were prepared for the last answer. We put food in front of our people, we read books, and we tried our best at each new thing.

The kids crawled in our laps. They met us in the next thing, not really knowing our quiet. So many came to support us. My dear Mindy came to spend the weekend to pray and listen. We spent hours talking, embracing the years we had missed together. We enjoyed coffee, slow mornings, and processing our appointments, and talking through our news.

Then last night, it dawned on me, I could keep little girls. I didn’t need to ask for help; I could be a help. It has felt like the next thing, the best next thing. I have little dancers, sweet snackers, and squeaky voices in my home. I’m in love. Story took them to a closet with baby clothes. How she managed them over her head, I have no idea. But these little girls are loving today right next to each other. I’m so glad to be next to them.

So we do the next thing, we embrace the little moments that are the big moments. We enjoy this day. Hard days will come, but there will be grace there. We play the music loud and face the mess that grew in our house in the unknown last week. We face the grief, the pain, the uncertainty we walked through last week with humble gratitude that this week opens up the mind space to cook dinner and put a little bit of cleaner in the toilette. We delight in our friends, and taste food again, we ask questions of our littles and actually listen. not just pretend to hear. Tonight we will give baths and pray over wet heads. We are not simply getting through this week, and there is a huge grace in that. We continue to dream about our summer. In 3 months, the fear of the exams will return, but we will be met there again.

We say goodbye to our treasured friend with tears not knowing what our next meeting will bring with it. Thinking on that meeting brings tears, but we are not afraid of those tears because they are evidence of our love.

How are you getting through today? How is the next thing hard? Can you see the grace meeting you? How is this week spread out before you?