Lavished

There are moments, as you may have noticed, where the weight of all your heartache, all that slipped through your fingers, all that you dreamed and lost crushes down on you, pummeling until you can’t stand. Those moments have been vast and frequent.
There are also those rare moments when you are shoved to the ground by the power of love from those around you.
Yesterday was such a moment.
Despite not being able, or deciding to not (however you wanna spin it), to put up the tree, I have been looking forward to my annual Christmas dinner with my boys—my best friends will all be there—save a couple who has family commitments. It is always one of, if not the most, my favorite nights of the year. I’ve felt a little awkward about this one: no tree, not much money for gifts, such a downer/wet-blanket mood—that I’ve not been such a good friend this year (more often hiding and retreating from them than reaching out and being with them). In addition, the cost of the dinner has been a challenge. By the time I get all (or whichever ones I determine are the most vital) my bills paid, my month’s paycheck is gone by the 4th of each month. So, I live off whatever massages I do or don’t get for the rest of the month. In preparation for the dinner, I’ve been doing massages this week, even though I haven’t had time—they’ve been late (ending at 11—I go to bed at ten on school nights typically anymore, or at least am cuddled on the couch with dogs zoning out to the food network or the househunter shows), and I’ve been exhausted each day.
My bff texted me yesterday and told me to make sure to check my mailbox when I get home (he knows I sometimes won’t look in it for weeks—it’s not fun to see the bills [you know, if you don’t look at them, they’re not there]). So, I got home from work and had a few moments before the next massage. I opened the card I found, which has been placed in the mailbox, not mailed. Inside was a beautiful card telling me how much I mean to people, how I make people’s worlds better, etc. There was also a gift card to the grocery store for $160, that simply said ‘for your dinner with the boys, from Saint Nick.’
For some moments, it truly didn’t sink in. I just looked at it. Then it hit, what had happened. I’ve not been crying lately. Been to numb, only small tears here and there, which is has been a nice change of pace. The card and the grocery money brought me to my knees, sobbing. At first, just for a moment, a shot of pain due to the reminder that others are ‘taking care of me’ instead of who used to. Then the tears turned to the humbling weight of being so lavished with loved, bestowed with such an extravagant offering and gift. It turns out, the boys got together and all pitched in so that I wouldn’t have to pay for our Christmas dinner. (Talk about pressure to cook a pretty great meal this year-- :) )
I went to bed last night, their undeserved words, gift, love, and kindness literally wrapping around me. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt protected. I felt cared for. I felt safe. Safe.
I was expecting the numbness I haven been thankful for to be cut through with new waves of grief. Instead, it was injected with joyous love and gave my heart and mind a respite for a time.
These are the moments. These are the people. These are the times. I don’t know who God is. I choose to believe this is God. This is who he is. Imperfect. Beautiful. Providing safety and love in the wasteland of a heart.
There are no words that can adequately express how much these actions and my friends’ love means to me and helps me.