Bleeding Hearts

I stood outside the county courthouse in the parking lot surround by trees of yellow, red, and orange. The fall wind blew a chilly breeze that lingered in the air. It was Friday just after 5 pm and everyone was leaving work to rush home for the weekend.

"It will be okay," I said to one of my foster children. Really saying that for myself because I needed to believe that. The four foster children I had were moving to a new home.

I hugged myself, brushing my hands up and down my arms seeking more solace than warmth.

B stood there stone faced and lost in her other world where she was safe. R sobbed and sobbed wiping snot from his nose across his sleeve. M tried to mother the two younger ones and assure them that this next house would be better than mine. N looked me straight in the eyes, casting her hurt to the depth of my heart while single tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes.

It was a moment I wanted to never end and a moment I wanted to end so quickly.

I hugged them all goodbye and told them I loved them always. I watched them get into other vehicles and drive away. N the only one to look back with pure agony in her face.

I fell into the driver's seat of my car and wept.

Until I was able to bottle up all the emotions and bury them deep in my heart.

I returned home and was embraced by my three girls who had tons of questions where I had no answers. Of course I responded perfectly to them and they were pleased.

My heart still aches.

Not a single day goes by that I do not think of these four children. There are songs, moments, or sayings that keep them alive. Their picture hangs on our fridge.

I can remember every detail about the night I picked up these kids and met them for the first time. And I remember the moment I realized I loved each of them for who they were.

It is easy to love others in general terms and there is a place for that kind of love, but I think what we all desire is to be loved specifically. I do not just want to be another acknowledgement in someones life. I want to be something more, different, special because of me.

The pain I felt when the foster children moved created a barrier around my heart. If I didn't let anyone else get close, I would not feel the pain. It was an easy maneuver.

But, I cannot desire to be loved specifically without giving that back in return.

So this carefree, loving girl created a heart barrier that resides inside a woman.

There are several people who have managed to poke holes in that barrier and I have learned to love them specifically, but I still try to protect myself.

Truthfully, I have no problem being expressively passionate about things that frustrate me or I see as injustices, but I struggle being expressively passionate about the joys.

It is so much easier to live life in our safe places. Isn't it?

Where we think we control the outcome. Where things are consistent, predictable.Where we can love others because there are so few we love. Where we can get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch TV and go to bed. Where tomorrow is a repeat of today. Where we are neat and tidy and everything really does fit into a place we have created.

I have lived it too. Honestly, there are days I am tempted to retreat back there.

Yet, deep down I believe life is meant to be lived, tasted, savored, devoured, explored, and messily wonderful.

I contradict myself.

I don't want to hurt. But I think that really living life is intertwined with loving specifically.

So, I confess that albeit scary, I push myself daily to try to love this way and to break my heart barrier away piece-by-piece.

Simple Joy

My eyes caught three over sized orange wheels rolling towards the ocean. A matching orange seat supported an older woman in a white T-shirt, light khaki pants rolled up to her knees, and bare feet. Her hands hung loose in her lap and her head hung down as her peppered gray hair blew in the wind.

She was placed just where the waves kiss the shore and two men, two women, and three kids surrounded her with love. Her infant grandson screamed in glee as the water touched his toes again and again.

Two other kids ran around her in circles splashing and laughing.

One of the women took her foot and placed it in the water while the other one splashed her legs. Her head remained down, hands in her lap, hair blowing in the wind. I did not see the expression on her face change.

The family happily shared their beach time with her. Taking pictures, engaging her in an ongoing conversation while she remained responseless. She was in the center of all they did.

Eventually the two men wheeled her back onto the beach under an umbrella. Another lady sat there and immediately exclaimed, "Wasn't that just wonderful mom!"

Her expression did not change.

Later as Cass and I were walking home from the beach the two men where wheeling her chair back to their rental house.

It was a quiet walk most of the way until one said, "I just know she loved it!" The other one nodded in agreement.

I watched her head that hung down all day suddenly rise to the sunny sky. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips remained fixed in a straight line. She rode the rest of the way home looking towards Heaven.

He was right. She loved it!

Truly a Wonderful World

I used to be a runner. Although, I suppose once you are a runner you are always a runner (hmm...well that is something I guess I need to think about more...). For various reasons I have been out of running regularly. I missed it horribly--the exercise, getting lost in thought, and the stress relief.

So this morning after a wonderful wake-up and lingering in bed, the beautiful 70 degrees invited me outside to run.

The first half mile was hard as I tried to find my breathing rhythm, but once I did I was ready. Eventually, I veered off the road to run the beach only to be greeted by a group of four unloading kayaks from their car. They were talking and laughing and the bright yellows and reds and blues from their kayaks seemed to mirror the mood of their time. It made me smile.

The sand dune up the beach was deep and soft and I felt sand spray up my legs with each step I ran. It reminded me of running in the snow for soccer practice back in high school. Although there is much more delight in the sand kissing my legs instead of snow slush.

As I got closer to the top of the sand dune I could spy the vast ocean and marveled at how calm it was. The water seemed near motionless with expanses of sand inviting you far out into the ocean floor. While footprints of earlier runners or walkers left a path inviting you to "come on in."
It was serene.

Looking into the distance I spotted a couple, weathered by time, sitting on the rock jetty. As I got closer I noticed how her head rested on his shoulder. The red hood from her coat flapped in the wind behind them creating the illusion of a kite. He smiled down at her, stopping to brush the wind blown hair from her eyes and she tilted her head up in response. This pure moment of delicate love brought tears to my eyes.

I continued down the beach admiring two little girls as they stood with the jeans rolled up letting the tide kiss their toes. The water would touch their toes and they would look at one another and just giggle. And they would do it over and over. I smiled at their jubilant delight over such a simple thing.

Admiring all that was around I got lost in thought when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I spotted a dolphin fin. I slowed my pace to see it again and when he reappeared I laughed realizing that I was "running with the dolphins." We remained partners for about a half a mile until I realized I had run father down the beach than I intended. Yet, I felt like I could run forever. There was something amazing and beautiful about this moment.

Finishing my run I marveled at how much joy running brings me. Not just for the exercise but for the time it allows me to take in the wonder of the world around me. There was so much I wanted to share so I returned home. Filled with such peace and joy and glee just knowing that it truly is a wonderful world.