paradox

I'm encountering a strange thing in the midst of this storm. A paradox that is probably not rare, but quite surprising to me right now:

(this is the set-up, not the confusing part): People are praying for us. More people than I can even imagine are praying for our boy, and for us. We feel it. We know we couldn't even get out of bed if that were not the case. And you know what? The prayers of a righteous man are powerful and effective. People are praying for rest, and we're getting rest (body, mind, soul, and spirit). People are asking for strength enough to make good decisions, and strength enough to just let go and cry when we need to. And we feel strong in both places. People are praying for our marriage, and Ryan and I have really stayed connected to each other through all of this so far. I could go on and on with a list of prayers that are being answered in us moment by moment...

The paradox is that people are surprised when we're doing well. Some seem almost disappointed or even offended if we are not constantly coming apart at the seams. I realize that by all natural logic, we very well should be. And to anyone who doesn't know Jesus and His Spirit in us, our ability to keep going and do this very difficult thing well seems like we are being callous or uncaring or naive or in denial.

But it's not the case. Prayers are being answered, and the Lord is so very thickly present with us right now. He is doing as much in/around Ryan and I as He is in our Athan's little body. I do not pretend that Ryan and I have any kind of "ability" to do this well on our own. We don't. In fact, I can feel some of my natural tendencies being held at bay by the prayers of the saints (like the tendency to withdraw or shut down or be blinded by anger, among others). I don't believe the purpose of your prayers or the Lord's purpose here is to make the grief go away, but to allow us to grieve well. As my friend Cindy sings, "The waves He'll still, or else He will quiet your heart." He's doing both, and He has been from the moment I went into labor until just now as I'm typing this post. I am amazed and grateful and (confession) surprised.

I don't feel "strong." That's not it. In the midst of such awful weakness, I know I am carried by a strength that is not my own. I am not sufficient, but I am swimming in a Grace that is. There will undoubtedly be moments or days in the future when I am not as aware of the hands that hold me as I am today, and I hope I have the courage to call or write and ask you to pray me through that part of the journey as well.