Different Kind of Crying

So it was time for my annual trip to Michigan. Typically this trip focuses on some quality time with my only remaining Grandparent, Pops, and a trip to the Big House. Throw in a few minutes with other family and if the Wolverines pull out a victory it’s deemed quite the productive trip. Last year I didn’t make the trip as it was scheduled for the weekend prior to Carter’s unanticipated surgery. Missing the trip up North was a no brainer. Throughout this past year many conversations with Pops made me realize just how significant this annual trip is to him, more so than for me. Not taking the time to fly up this year wasn’t an option.

The year’s trip was planned for this past weekend and everything was put into motion. Several conversations were had with dear friend, David Moyer, who graciously offers me stand by tickets at a ridiculously cheap rate every time I need to take to the friendly skys. He made it clear that flights were extremely difficult to come by and my schedule would need to be quite flexible. I was reluctant to make the trip knowing it would mean more time away from the family and make the work schedule for this week pretty erratic and messy. I love my job and I love the routine of meetings and managing that has become my ministry. Giving up time with Amy and the boys, as well as missing work wasn’t going to be easy for me.

So now to the reason of this post. The extended trip and lack of “plan” for these past 5 days have been such a God thing. I’ve had long quality conversations with family that I often wave to on the way to and from the football game with maybe a 5 minute “hello, good to see you, and bye” sprinkled in. Many of these conversations have included questions and concerns about Carter and our family. With each and everyone I have had the chance to explain that all is well in our world. And each time I talk about where we were a year ago and where we are now, I think of one thing and one thing only… God’s unmeasurable Grace. I hold back the tears a lot better a year post surgery. I can talk about the journey without blubbering these days. But for the last 4 nights, I’ve laid in bed and cried every night. I cry because I am amazed at how much God loves us and cares for us, His broken humans who continually defy Him. Us, who deserve the pain and suffering that we have brought upon ourselves, do not deserve the unconditional love He so easily bestows. If I can’t look at this past year and understand the need for a Savior and how the Gospel is evident in Carter’s journey, then I should have a totally different reason to cry.

I get it. I don’t deserve it, but I get it. And every chance I’m allowed to talk about a journey dripped in His Grace I just want to cry.


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