As a single mom I worry about what my daughter is eating for
lunch, how her grades are, who she's hanging out with, what she's thinking when
she looks in the mirror, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. This year, on top of
all the usual, I've especially wondered, "How am I going to provide for
her?"
Yesterday my daughter and I were driving along through a mad snow
flurry. When we got within a couple blocks of our apartment there was a huge
gap of sunshine ahead, hanging out in the skies directly above home. We were
right on the tail end of the flurry, about to cruise into the sunshine, and I
pointed out how weird it looked, noting the contrast between where we were and
where we were headed.
My
daughter said, "Well, the storm has to end somewhere. It looks like we're
right at the end of it," and then I got all teary-eyed as her phrase
repeated in my mind, followed by a thought…
Like
I mentioned before in an earlier
post, for me it seems this year has been full of rampant, relentless
storms. The kind of storms that are so loud in my mind that I can't rest easy
at night. Seeing that sunshine, hearing those soft spoken words from my naively
wise daughter, I recognized truth—my storm has to end somewhere. With that
realization, came the sweet whisper that only a humble, pleading heart can hear.
Words both prophetic and consoling to a single mother whose burden was
approaching unbearable played through my mind like a hymn,
“This is the end of the storm.”
It
was a marvelous revelation, for today a huge burden has indeed been lifted. A persistent
problem has finally been solved. Today, the storms in my mind are at ease. Though
other storms are bound to arise, I know they too will have to end at some
point.
I know that my daughter was speaking literally, but the parabolic wisdom
of her words astounds me...
Truth
is truth.
I
love moments when we realize that we are being taken care of even when it seems
like we’re weathering the storms alone. Our needs are met if we seek the light
amid the darkness. While they do exist side by side, light and dark can’t
occupy the same space at the same time. Sometimes we have to pass through a
stretch of darkness before we reach the light.
Here I go, cruising into the sunshine—the light beyond the storm—after
so many little dark moments. Thank God for small blessings. Thank God for kind
people...particularly the ones who appreciate and respect single moms.
JNP
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