That's All It Took

A plastic Easter egg randomly placed by a child and then found by me in the pantry. That's all it took to plunge me headlong into a depression I haven't been able to shake.

Three Easters ago I bought close to 500 plastic eggs on clearance to be used the following Easter. I had big plans for an Easter egg hunt, and I was so very excited. I also grabbed a bunch of plastic Easter buckets, for those who forgot to bring theirs, and the greatest yard sign which read START to be placed where all of the kids lined up.

That following Easter came and the eggs weren't used because we were in Ethiopia meeting our Sons for the very first time. I could think of no better way to have celebrated that Easter, but knew in the back of my mind that the following Easter I would put on the Easter egg hunt.

The following Easter came and in Gods amazing timing we were in Ethiopia again, this time meeting our Daughters. Once again I couldn't imagine myself anywhere other than right where I was on that Easter Sunday, and I couldn't help but think about how wonderful the following Easter was going to be with these four new blessings hunting for plastic Easter eggs.

One week from today will be the following Easter, the one I had so looked forward to. Only I don't have those 500 plastic eggs anymore, or the buckets, or that yard sign. They are all gone, taken from me on October 12, 2012 when my home exploded. I write that and I cry. Not because those silly plastic eggs can't be replaced, but because it is a reminder of how the seemingly simple things in life aren't really simple at all. They make up who we are. They represent our ideas, our plans, our dreams, hopes, and joy.

I am angry that my life has been turned upside down. I am angry that I can't look in my pantry for the bread without being blindsided by a plastic egg that shakes my very foundation. I am angry that it has had this impact on me and that I can't shake it. I'm angry that the first Easter for my children will not be what I had planned, hoped, and dreamed.

I don't want to replace those eggs, I want my eggs back.
I don't want to replace those buckets, I want my buckets back.
I don't want to replace that sign, I want my sign back.

I am now so left of center that I wish more than anything else that Easter would pass us by and I wouldn't have to acknowledge it all. I don't have Easter baskets for the kids, every time I see them in the store I want to throw up. And then I get angry, and then depressed, and then angry because I am depressed.

And damn it I want my eggs back, I want the excitement I felt for that egg hunt back, and I guess I just really want my life back.

I'm tired of pushing ahead, I just want to to stop for a while and ask God why? I haven't done that, I don't do that, I try to be the eternal optimist, but right now I'm tired of trying to keep my head above water. I need to be carried for a while.

I think instead of asking God why, I need to ask him for strength and grace. Asking why is pointless isn't it? Who cares why, what's done is done. I need strength right now, to shake off these blues. And I need grace to help me understand that life is so much bigger than I can ever understand and eggs or no eggs, I can still make plans, have hopes, and feel excitement, if I choose to.

Letting go is hard. Much harder then I ever could have imagined.