my heart hurts

Shawn left super early this morning to drive to Texas. He's driving a 26ft Uhaul with our car on a tow dolly hitched to the back. I'm so grateful that Shawn's Dad is following behind in his vehicle, Shawn's a great driver, but that's a long drive with a large truck.

Jude is spending the day with Rhonda (Jude's North Carolina Grandma), so it's just Cohen and me at the house today. The house is completely empty save for a couple of blow up mattresses, a pack and play, and our luggage. I've spent the morning cleaning up and getting the house ready to be seen by someone who thinks it's such a fantastic home they want to offer us $10,000 more than we're asking. But now Cohen's down for a nap. The house is clean. Most of my earthly possessions are packed on a truck that is somewhere in Alabama right now. And after about six weeks of nonstop preparations, plans, long nights, early mornings, and filling ever day with "doing," I finally have a chance to stop.

And I'm realizing something I hadn't noticed before. Something that all the busyness was covering.

My heart is hurting.

When I look around this house, when I see good friends interact with Jude, when I give a hug, when I watch someone pull out of our driveway one last time, when I try to remember details of people's faces, expressions, and hugs, I feel a subtly overwhelming tightness in my chest. A tightness that reminds me that this is hard. And I can't stop crying.

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I began this post a few days ago and as I was writing I realized that I needed to take my tears (and by "tears," I mean hideous, heaving sobs) to God. We're currently in Texas, but we won't have internet access in our home for another two weeks. I just wanted to update and let everyone know that we got here safely. We love our house, we're mostly unpacked, the boys are happy, and Shawn and I are excited, but in my moments of stillness....my heart still hurts.