Once the boys and I had made it through our first anniversary of losing Mike and our 2nd Father’s Day without him we continued our getaway trip and went to visit some of our best friends from college. It was a relaxing and much needed couple of days. With these friends I felt like I could be myself. I could talk about Mike openly without anyone getting uncomfortable. We could all tell funny stories. My kids could run around and be just nine and 11-year-old crazy boys. I could sit and pour out my heart, my worries, my fears of trying to live life without him.
Just like the plane ride home from Washington, D.C. I felt another tiny bit of weight lifted off my shoulders. I also felt the biggest hole in my heart. The first year had gone by fast, too fast. We were so busy and overwhelmed and yet still in such shock. I’ve never in my life understood why someone would choose to take their own life, yet many times during that first year, I had those feelings.
There was just no way that I could make it another year on my own with our boys.
As soon as I started my own pity party it was like God needed to wake me up yet again. He had to show me that I could do this. He had to physically show me that I can whether storms, I can be strong, I can take care of my boys.
We came home from our trip to exactly this message from the Lord.
One of the bathrooms in our new house had a pipe leak in the ceiling while we were away, which caused the ceiling to completely collapse. I was the one who walked into the bathroom to discover the damage of yet another flood. Except, these waters came from above, not below. It was like God was telling me, April, you’ve got this!! This is nothing! You’ve been through hell and high water, when are you going to learn to put your full trust in me?
A huge part of me wanted to curse God. Can’t a girl catch a break? Another part of me had to just laugh. You can’t make this stuff up. God had one heck of a sense of humor, that’s for sure.
The hardest part about this situation was that the bathroom shared a wall with my youngest son’s bedroom closet. The same son who was terrified of more flooding and needed the top bunk. Now, his closet had water in it and once again his toys, shoes, and other items were ruined. Can’t my kid catch a break?
As frustrating as this was, it was nothing compared to what the three of us had already been through. I’ve always had a type-A personality, a little uptight as Mike would tease. This was God’s way of teaching me to just relax. To be more optimistic. To take a step back and see that the boys and I are, in fact, okay. This happened when we were out of town. No one was injured. There was no middle of the night, scary ceiling crashing-in experience to add to their trauma.
God spared us from all of that.
This taught me that I could handle pretty much anything that was thrown my way. My boys were going to see their mom be strong, once again.
