Heart Storms

The other day Penny got bonked by the pointy end of a large umbrella Jesse was wielding. “Mom!” she ran to me complaining, “Jesse just hit me right where my heart is, and now it’s like there’s a storm in my heart!”

I can kiss a bonked head, blow on a scraped knee, bandage a cut finger, and dispense Tylenol like it’s nobody’s business; but . . . I’m all thumbs when it comes to fixing heart storms.

Darn it.

This particular heart storm sorted itself out rather quickly.

But I am sure there will be others: ones that rage and linger and make her clutch her chest in an attempt to stop her heart from spinning into pieces.

It gives me mini heart storms just thinking about it.

But, I need to get over the fact that life will surely dish out ample helpings of trouble and sorrow and difficulty to my kids.

Life will.

But it will be OK. They will be OK.

I came, quite by chance, upon a great quote a few weeks ago: “Whereas the bird is at home in the air, we are clearly not at home in time – because we belong to eternity.” (Neal A. Maxwell)

Dealing with my own little heart storm as I was when I found the quote, I felt the truth in it. Abrupt stops and halts occasioned by things like death are so uncomfortable to us – so rattling and jarring to our hearts and souls because they are unnatural. They are totally contrary to the eternal way our souls know to feel things.

So . . . my kids will have some rough times. They’ll see storms. But they’re made of stiffer stuff than I sometimes give them – or myself – credit for. Their makeup is eternal. When their heart storms come, we’ll huddle down if we must, but we’ll weather them. We will last. Our storms won’t. And even while they are here, we’ll have a lot of sunny and spectacular days surrounding them.

Ha! Oh wait! That was the very wrong picture to put for our happy-sunny-days ending. If ever there was a storm coming, that’s it for certain!

How about . . .

Eh. (Shrug)