When Your Heart Breaks

The days leading up to my mom's arrival to Barranquilla, I felt like a kid counting down the days until Christmas Eve!  The night before she was to arrive, I couldn't hardly sleep.  (I'm sure my being nearly forty weeks pregnant and my squashed bladder had nothing to do with that! haha)  While Sergio, Isabella and I waited for her at the airport, I was so excited!  It felt like the time was going backwards as we waited to spot her face among the people exiting the airplane.  Finally, after over seven months of distance and seperation, Isabella and I got to give my mom (and her Granna) a huge hug and talk to her without an Ipad or Iphone screen between us!  It was such a great feeling to be able to hug, see, and talk with my mom face-to-face.  Isabella was elated, shocked, and immediately reaching out her little arms for her "Granna" to carry her!

I was extremely blessed and thankful to have my mom come and stay with us here in Colombia for about five weeks.  She was able to be with us during the birth of Gabriella Faith and was so much help to us during the first 2-3 weeks after Gabriella's arrival.  As much as I enjoyed her stay with us, her leaving was much more difficult than I'd thought it would be.  The days leading up to her scheduled departure, I felt heavy, dark clouds settling in over my mind and heart.  I couldn't and wouldn't let myself think about or anyone talk about her leaving.  In trying to prepare Isabella for Granna leaving, Isabella we talked about Granna leaving on an airplane to go home, and she became sullen, serious, and sad, which made my "ignoring" my mom leaving even more difficult.  The day mom left, I wanted with everything in me, to run after her like a little child yelling, "Don't go mommy!"  I wanted to get in that airplane with her and head back "home" to the United States and never look back.  But, being that I had my husband and two little girls with me, one of which was misty-eyed and on my hip reassuring herself and me by repeating that "Granna coming back", I couldn't.  Because of my call, I couldn't.  Instead of doing what every part of my being wanted, I hugged her tight, kissed her cheek, and watched her disappear behind large doors that lead to airport security.  

As much as I pride myself in not being a person to cry often, the tears started and kept flowing and my usual "tricks" did nothing to stop them.  I sat holding both my girls close and silently wiping the tears away as they slipped steadily out from under my sunglasses.  (Yeah, I'd at least been smart enough to carry some.)  A woman sitting beside me kept sneaking glances at me from the corner of her eye, but even the embarrassment of being seen crying in public couldn't stop the tears.  My sweet two-year old sat quietly on my lap, arms around my neck, head on my shoulder as if she too felt the sadness of the day.  "It's okay mommy," she whispered, "Granna be right back!"  The weight of knowing my mom was gone and it would be at least another six or seven months, a year, or longer before I'd see her (or any of my family) again, was nearly suffocating and overwhelming.  Sergio didn't say anything, just hugged me, which made the tears come even more quickly.  

I cried silently, and tears continued to slide from under my sunglasses, off and on the entire way back from the airport.  They remained throughout the day.  When we got back to our apartment, it felt so silent and empty.  My heart felt a weight of such sadness, that I felt as though I was mourning the loss of someone.  I don't recall feeling a heaviness or sadness quite like this.  It's like I physically felt the sadness.  The heaviness and deep sadness stayed with me for several days and whenever I thought of my mom or family, I'd get weepy and cry all over again.  I cried so much my eyes were nearly swollen shut.  That's never happened to me before, that I remember.  Several lonely days have passed and here I am.

This post is me being pretty vulnerable, it's admitting I'm struggling and that I don't have it all together.  It's me admitting that there are times I want to pack it all up and head back home.  It's me admitting there are days that my heart truly feels broken and torn and thrown into two entirely different places.  Some of you may think my reaction to my mom's leaving is dramatic, or babyish, or even ridiculous.  But her coming and leaving broke down the hardness that I'd developed in trying to "be strong" and to act like everything was fine and that this wasn't (and isn't) hard for me.  My mom's being here made me realize that sometimes doing what God calls you to do is extremely lonely and isolating.  It reminded me of how many things I miss about back home: conveniences, independence, and all the family time that I'm missing out on.  It made me feel the sacrifices that my family and I are making daily.  Every birthday, holiday, every milestone in my children's lives, someone is missing out.  (I don't say that to envoke pity, I know there are so many others that have given up and sacrificed far more than I.)  Her leaving Colombia reminded me that sometimes God requires your heart to be broken.  He allows you to be broken down, to come to the end of you, so that His power and name might be exalted.  So that you, and everyone around you, knows that it's by His power and His might that things were done or accomplished.  I am not enough, I don't have enough, and I will never BE enough.  My mom leaving officially brought me to the end of me.  It opened my eyes to the fact I've been trying to do a lot of this on my own.  In my own strength.  My mom leaving was God reminding me (once again) that I have to rely on Him for everything that I need.  Joy.  Contentment.  Peace.  Strength.  Because, as much as people love you, the money you make, the friends you have or don't have, will never fulfill you.  They'll never come close to filling the aching holes in your heart or soul, and they'll never be able to ease the pain of your broken heart.  Only He can.  

So even though I feel broken hearted, I am trusting that my heavenly Father will continue to heal me, complete me, fulfill me, and strengthen me.  That He will truly be glorified and that His name will be exalted.  That we will be able to do the things He has called us here to do.  But most importantly, I'm believing that my Heavenly Father will continue to wrap His arms around me and hug me when the arms of my earthly parents just can't reach quite this far.