I carved out space this morning for words and I have gathered all of the essentials: the coffee, the toast with extra butter, the favorite pandora station, the open window, The Word.

It is saving day and I have been holding onto this saving story birthed five months ago, birthed after one last ditch effort before crossing into a place we weren't sure we could go.  A story that began with a whirlwind trip east to a good friend's wedding, to a large city where we stayed out late and forgot ourselves.  He will tell you it was the first time I was loose in a long time.   I will tell you I beamed and beamed.

Three weeks later after finally getting the guts to test just once more (because it is amazing the stinging, the rejecting a little slip of paper can deliver), I woke him and he stared at me and we were through the roof with thanksgiving This is a gift.  And then, because he is him and I am me, we lifted heavy things and worked our hearts and our lungs because strong has never felt more important than now.

Here is the best part: our people gathered.  It sounded like this: sister's squeals, dad's smiling tearing eyes, my mother's I knew it, brother's demand for one more adventure before, then his family-- his mother's surprised joy, his brother and his father so soft.  It looked like her tipping wine glass during a fierce hug, his stare from across the room, her wringing hands, her spring from the couch to her son.

Still, more gathering.  Gifts in the mail, the balloons and hand made things from my sweet classroom girls, the friend who is only days behind and who feels closer than states away.  The messages and the questions and the care.  The whole week mother came and cleaned everything.  The promises of summer lounging by the lake.

And of course, there he is.  Putting together a crib in the living room.  Cleaning the kitchen after making dinner again.  Telling me to nap, to eat, to give him a hug.  There he is telling me to accept that part time job so he can have a day at home with baby, to order the ridiculously expensive swim suit for the bump that is slowly growing.  Oh, there he is, a glimpse of Him.

The God who gives even when He is doubted.

This is perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned as an adult: God's love for me is so unwarranted, so undeserved, that in spite of my anger and doubt and distrust, He still loves, gives, stays.

And that, friends, is Easter.