Middle-of-the-night bathroom floor moments
I'm sitting this morning thinking about some of the middle of the night bathroom floor moments Amy and I have shared during our marriage. This post will be heavy, but I promise to bring some hope.
Last night I heard a truck loudly drive down our street and I barely shifted in the bed, slid my arm over to the night stand and grabbed my phone to see what time it was. This instantly made me feel like my equilibrium was thrown into a blender. I started convulsing like I was going to puke and my body started shaking. I ran to the toilet. Amy did her best to assist and to console me as I hugged the porcelain and pressed my bare legs against the cold tile. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way," she said. She touched my leg, knowing I likely didn't really want to be touched in this moment. But her touch just reassured me that she was with me. Through another middle-of-the-night bathroom floor moment.
Two-and-a-half years ago I awoke in the middle of the night to feint sobs coming from our bathroom. I rolled over and saw light coming through a crack in the door, confirming that Amy was in there alone. She was trying to muffle her cries, but there was no hiding her sorrow. It came out with each breath she took. I opened the door to find her on her knees. She looked at me and said, "I don't want to lose this baby! Please, God, I don't want to lose this baby!" I wrapped her up and held her. The cold tile felt in sharp contrast to her hot, sweaty skin. We lost that baby - Thomas - at 13 weeks gestation. His death was a like getting car-jacked while on your way home from getting laid off from your job. Death upon death.
I feel this pressure, this guilt, that I've got to get back on my feet. I need to be doing more. Feeling better. Amy is carrying a huge load right now with managing Teddy and Peter, while also nurturing and growing the new life that is inside her (yes, baby no. 5). But as I sat on the bathroom floor so early this morning, I realized that this is all I can do right now. I have to be carried. Is there valiance in that? Is there bravery in surrender?
Yes, I believe there is. I believe realizing how weak I am right now, and relying on my team to execute the game plan is the best way I can lead. I'm being forced to put my money where my mouth is. I've talked and written a lot about surrendering to God's will. Now, in the midst of this trial I realize all I surrendered to God before was what I felt comfortable giving away. Not all of me. Work was mine. Success was mine. Being a fun, active, playful dad was mine too. Now I've given all to the One who gave all for me. Because I don't have a choice! I know he will carry me, just as sure as Amy will meet me on cold tile of the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. His strong hand is on me. He is so careful with me. He will rise me up when the time is right (1 Peter 5:1-7).